The Apprentice
by Split Infinitive
Summary: A power mad King, plotting behind the scenes, a Queen in distress, determined to stop him, and a Hero under a self imposed exile. Post Majora's Mask fic.
1. The Meeting

**A/N:** I'm currently going through the process of polishing up this story. I'm going to keep the writing style as it, though I don't think it's as good as my later stories. If the chapter headings are in bold, that means that that particular chapter has had some minor alternations done to it. Probably still haven't caught all the typos, though…

Disclaimer: Zelda and all related names belong to Nintendo. The non-game characters and all the words are mine.

**The Legend of Zelda**

**The Apprentice**

**Prologue – The Meeting**

The harsh desert wind whipped into her face as she trudged on, back bent, tunic flapping. Occasionally she had to flinch as granules of sand, like tiny shards of glass, flew into her unprotected eyes. She tried to swallow, but her mouth was too dry, and so her throat did nothing but tighten. The desert sun beat down upon her with its merciless, shimmering heat. She resisted the temptation to reach for her water pouch, knowing there was little left inside. Instead, she kept her hand gripped firmly on the hilt of her sword as it swung from her belt.

Soon, she would be there. One step in front of the other. One step. The next. She cursed herself for being a fool, for setting out on this Triforce-forsaken quest. The wind howled in her ears, as though demanding for her to stop, but she kept moving. The last settlement she'd seen was two days walk to the south. There, she had replenished her supplies, but now she was dangerously low on water. The old tattered map that she had bought from a mask seller had indicated a tiny village nearby. That had to be the place she sought. She scowled in distaste. What kind of fools would build a town here of all places?! Almost immediately the answer came to her. The kind of fool she was looking for.

Her eyes saw the tavern before her mind registered it. Biting down hard, she quelled the sudden catch of hope that had shot straight into her heart. Maybe she hadn't seen anything. Maybe it was a mirage. Her body rebelled against her mind's caution as she felt the aches in her bones, the weariness in her eyes. Rest. She needed to rest. Slowly she made her way to the small, dimly lit wooden building. It was real. Someone here must know the one she sought. Someone here must be able to help.

It was a shabby place. The wood was chipped and worn down by the constant sandstorms. Strange that anyone would even build a wooden structure in this heat. Maybe the sun had boiled their minds, blunting their common sense in the process.

She could hear the faint sounds of merry-making from within, and her heart tightened - she ached for the company. She growled at herself for feeling such weakness. Her boots were too loud and heavy as she walked onto the platform to the door. She paused then, noticing some tiny bells hanging there, tingling as they were buffeted about by the faint breeze. With a sharp grab, she silenced them, and then walked in.

She was a little disappointed that they didn't all stop what they were doing to turn to see her. So much for the dramatic entrance then, but she supposed that the less attention paid to her the better. The hum of human voices soothed her ears, especially since she'd listened to nothing but the wind for days. The smell of roasted meat brought upon sharp hunger pangs, which she tried to ignore, but failed - her mouth began to water.

As she strode across to the bar, her eyes quickly evaluated her surroundings. Two men at the furthermost table laughed heartily. Another man, sitting alone, quietly talked to a serving girl, her cheeks flushed red. She rolled her eyes at such nonsense.

Seated near to the door were two other men. One in a hood and thick cloak – ridiculous, considering the climate. And then there was the man facing him. Thin, blond and dressed in a worn out green tunic. Her eyes narrowed as her heart skipped again with hope. Was he the one?

She slid into a seat at the bar and turned to the tavernkeeper. "Nice place for a tavern," she croaked. From the flash of indignation she saw from his face, she knew it had been a mistake to open with a criticism. Inwardly, she cursed herself inwardly, then flashed him a weak smile. "So…you must make a killing in the water trade." The tavernkeeper cocked an eyebrow and she cursed herself again. What was with all these mooncalf comments?

"Well, ye aren't obviously from around 'ere!" he replied his voice surprisingly gentle voice, his grin revealing a mouth full of crooked teeth. He chuckled as he banged a mug down in front of her. The water sloshed about from the vibration. "Aye, it's water you need, lassie." He smiled again as she gulped down the cool, refreshing beverage, not caring if it was clean or not, and certainly not caring that she was spilling most of it down her chin. "We don't usually get strangers round these parts," he continued. "What brings ye here of all places?"

"Thank you," she replied, pushing the mug back towards him. "Well…I'm here looking for someone." She heard her voice sound uncertain. Anger blistered on her heart. No weakness. No more weakness. She continued, adding the bite of determination to her tone. "Someone important. Someone, who I've been told…is looking for an apprentice".

"Oh really," the tavernkeeper said, an amused tilt to his voice. She somehow found that annoying. "Lots of people here looking for an apprentice. You don't look the type to be a blacksmith's apprentice." He must have noted the angry flush to her face. "Or maybe you do." His eyes studied her. "Strong, quick…yes, maybe…blacksmith, it is."

"You're teasing me," she replied slowly. "I think I could handle being a blacksmith's apprentice, but who in the name of the Triforce would do such a thing in this heat? No. The one I search is a warrior. A hero. Someone famous. Someone important."

"Yes, yes…important. So you said," he muttered whilst eyeing her closely. "And what be this…'important' person's name?"

"Link." She saw it. An almost imperceptible glance to the table with the green suited man behind her, and she knew she'd found who she was looking for. Quick as an arrow, the tavernkeeper's eyes found her once again.

"Link?! Link?! What kind of damn fool name is that? And what be your name, lassie?"

"My name is Zayna". She shifted out of her chair with a look of triumph, throwing some rupees onto the bar. Zayna didn't need the theatrics. Everyone knew who Link was. Everyone knew the Hero of Time. She spun round to face the blond-haired man. "And you must be the one I'm looking for." She held out her hand.

There was a pause as the blond man looked at her hand, a slightly bemused look hanging on his face. Then, in a blur of movement, the hooded man opposite him shot out a gloved hand and shoved her back.

"Hey!" she growled. "There's no need for-." Zayna didn't see the kick coming. It caught her straight in the chest and flung her through the door outside. She choked on the sand, and cursed herself again as she tried to untie herself from her cloak. Luckily she had thin armour on under her tunic and, besides, the blow hadn't been too painful. She heard the crunch of boot on sand and hissed as she frantically tried to find her sword.

It took her a split second to hear the whoosh of a sword slicing towards her before she found her own weapon and drew it. The two swords clanged together. Small sparks, fluttering away as they glowed, sizzled in the heat as the two blades locked.

"I have no business with you, stranger," Zayna spat. She was on the ground and at a disadvantage. That wasn't acceptable. Zayna leaned back, lulling the Hooded One into thinking he was gaining strength on her. In one fluid movement she swept his legs from under him with a swift kick. Zayna jolted from the pain. She was still tired and weakened from her journey.

The Hooded One landed awkwardly on his shoulder, before rolling out the fall. Zayna dived towards him, but he deflected her thrust easily. She swung again, feeling the hot taste of anger fill her mouth. He dodged her again. Frustrated, she ran towards him screaming, her sword in a clumsy, two-handed grip above her head. Calmly he fell to his back and, using her own momentum against her, threw her up and over with his legs.

Zayna felt something crunch as she hit the ground hard, her sword spinning away from her. The Hooded One picked up her sword and walked towards her. She rubbed her neck as she tried to stand, but collapsed in a heap out of exhaustion. She felt the sword at her throat, and then felt the blade lift her chin. Her eyes met his. Humiliated and furious, she scowled up.

"Do you yield?" he asked in a soft voice.

"I do," she growled. Fatigue weakened her, as misery spread through her soul. Whoever this stranger was, he would pay one day for interfering in her business. Just as soon as she could get back to the one she sought, and give him an Oath of Allegiance. He'd be probably gone now. After seeing her pathetic display here, she couldn't blame him. This Hooded One would pay. But what did he want with her anyway?

"Well, that's good," he said. She could hear the smile in his voice and hated him more for it. He slowly removed his hood to reveal blond hair and a hint of green clothing under his cloak. "I mean, I wouldn't want to fight my new apprentice all the time now, would I?"


	2. Return of a Hero

**Chapter One**

**Return of a Hero**

Zayna was still angry with him. Link could tell from the sly glances she gave him when he thought he wasn't looking. He smiled inwardly to himself as they trotted along on horseback through the forest. The path was worn and muddy, a slight breeze scattering the leaves through the swaying undergrowth. Hints of sunlight flashed through the branches of the tall, thin ancient trees of the forest. So many trees. So close together. Almost threatening.

He blinked. Where did that come from? Link snuffed the thoughts from his mind; he didn't need a coward's view of the world.

The Hero of Time considered his would-be apprentice for a moment. She'd hardly spoken a word to him since emerging from the desert. Link couldn't really blame her for that. He had gotten used to her using a scowl to communicate – in fact, he had managed to differentiate between her 'happy' scowl and her 'angry' scowl. Well, mostly he'd experienced the latter.

The test had been necessary. Link had withdrawn to the desert almost five summers ago. Living with the general population of Hyrule had become just too painful. So what, it was unheroic, but he'd decided to officially snip that branch of his life. As if you could retire from such a thing. At first he'd ignored all the requests, the messenger boys coming almost daily asking him to do this, save that, find this.

He'd made a point of disregarding the requests of the more regally dressed heralds. They were from _her,_ obviouslyBesides, they weren't really quests, more like checks to see if he was still alive. Over time, they had grown less frequent and he had not received any summons for over two summers now. He wondered if they had finally forgotten. _She_ wouldn't have, that was for certain.

It wasn't that he was being selfish. There were many people who could do the jobs that people asked of him. It's not like Hyrule was in danger anymore. A stray memory ghosted across his mind, and he frowned as his musings went down a different corner. A few months ago, a battered Goron had somehow made his way through the desert to find him. Link could remember how the poor soul had looked. One eye missing, one broken arm – it was a miracle that the Goron had found him. Most of all, Link remembered the haunted look in the young Goron's eyes.

The Goron spoke of terrible danger. Prophecies of huge upheavals in Hyrule. The coming of a great Evil. Link had listened in silence. He'd heard it all before. People came with many such stories and none were true.

Still. There had been something about this one. Something that had made him uneasy. The Goron spoke of his king's illness. Darunia, the Goron King was a few months away from death, and had specifically requested for the Hero of Time. Link had felt torn, old loyalties running deep, but when the Goron messenger died in the hut Link had called home, he decided he had to honour the sacrifice the young messenger had made just to bring him the message.

And so, the Hero of Time had sent out word that he was looking for an apprentice. Five summers and he was out of practice. Shameful, he knew. He was approaching his thirty-second summer himself. Still a young man. Physically, at least. But he felt that, for some reason, he should pass on his skills to someone else. It was time for a new hero. He would do whatever the Goron King asked, but then he would leave the land completely. There must be other places on this world.

Most of the would-be apprentices didn't even make it through the desert. Those that did, came barging through Xeno's Tavern boasting of future riches and fame. Of those, many fled as soon as he challenged them to a duel. All of them had mistaken his friend Shade – with his blond hair and his penchant for wearing green – for Link. One or two had stuck around for the duel, but did not seem to show much potential with a sword.

Zayna, though, had been different. He had known she was coming, of course. Link kept himself informed from messages passed onto him via messenger bird from the only other village in the desert. So he had waited at the tavern everyday with Shade. He had sensed the quiet determination within her, felt an intensity forged from the fiery heat of anger. Link mulled over that. She would need to work on that temper a bit, that was for certain. He could still remember the barrage of insults she'd hit him with after he had revealed who he truly was. Cloud-Cucco-Headed-Ganon-Faced-Pig, was it? Interesting. He smiled.

"Find something amusing?" Zayna had been watching him, and had finally decided to speak.

He turned to face her. Her horse, bought from a stablehand on the edges of the desert, shook its head, its hooves snapping twigs as it moved on. Zayna had cut her long black hair - a practical gesture - and it made her face look a lot younger than her twenty-five summers. She had come well prepared. On her back was a beautifully carved bow hidden behind a makeshift steel shield. At her waist dangled her sword.

"No, not at all". He smiled again. "It's a fine day and fine days make me smile." Under his breath he added. "You should try it one day."

She had caught it though. "What?"

"Nothing", he added cheerily, smiling once more, which only seemed to infuriate her further. "So … are you going to tell me more about yourself?"

There was a pause as she eyed him uncertainly. "Zayna," he said, "if you are to be my apprentice, I think I need to know more about you." He thought for a moment. "Besides, all the best teacher-apprentice bonds are based on trust and friendship." In fact, he mused, he had no idea what the best teacher-apprentice bonds were based on. So much for _his _preparation.

Zayna considered him with an amused glint in her eye. "I liked you better when you were quiet and brooding." Her lips twitched. "Reflective mood, was it?"

The Hero swayed from side to side in his saddle. "I've a lot on my mind, yes," he said. It was the truth. He blinked as a stray ray of sunlight peeked through the trees. "So…about you?"

She sighed. "There's not much to tell. I'm Hylian, as you can tell. I … spent some time at the Castle … things happened, I needed to leave." She shook her head. "Look, I just need to become a warrior."

"Anyone can teach you that. Why me?"

"I want to be the best."

Link chewed the inside of his cheek for a heartbeat. "And how would you define 'the best', Zayna?"

She ignored the question. "I need to keep moving". Then she smiled for the first time, and before Link could ask the question she knew he would ask she said, "I want some adventure. Going to the Goron King and taking on his quest sounds like fun."

Link caught the insincere edge to her voice, but decided not to push it further. For now. Instead he asked, "What did you do at the Castle?"

"I was an advisor to Queen Zelda."

Link stiffened at the name. There was an uncomfortably long pause. Zayna, her face a tangle of confusion, probably thought he wouldn't speak again for the rest of the day. Then he asked in a quiet voice, "How is she?"

Again, a pause. Link thought she must be carefully considering her answer, before she simply said, "She's fine."

"And the King?" Link tried to keep the hardness out of his voice, but failed. He could feel Zayna's eyes considering him, her gaze quizzical, but did not turn to face her or offer an explanation.

"He's in good health, too," she said. "Actually, they both seem to hide themselves in the castle. Zelda, moreso. No more public festivities, and no more grand speeches from the happy couple." Zayna pondered over her words. "Zelda hasn't been seen in public for over two summers now. Her subjects now think her existence is the stuff of legend and myth."

"Ah," he chuckled. "The legend of Zelda."

Link had heard the gossip, but he hadn't paid much attention to it. Well, he had tried not to anyway.

Perhaps sensing that the conversation had troubled him, Zayna moved onto a different topic. "So we head to Death Mountain, where the Goron Village is?"

"Yes, but it's a few days trek from here. There's a village near here. We should reach it by nightfall." He looked up to check the passage of the sun. "You know, five summers ago, there were hardly any villages in Hyrule. Now, there's dozens. I mean, they built one in the desert." He shook his head. "What kind of fools would do such a thing?!"

Link was caught off guard by the unfamiliar sound of Zayna laughing. He was then surprised by the warm tone in her voice as she said, "My sentiments exactly."

2

"I always thought the full moon looked beautiful," Zayna said as they trotted on after dark. She seemed to have lowered her guard somewhat, her words released with a more easy touch.

Link glanced up at the moon. "Yes. At least this one doesn't have an evil face on it".

Zayna gave him look that seemed to question his sanity. Link spit out the water he was drinking as he doubled over in laughter. "Never mind!" he said. Zayna must be wondering who exactly she had joined up with. Composing himself, Link said, "So... ah… don't you want to know anything about me?"

Zayna gave a little snort. "Is this the famed modesty of a hero?"

"No ... I meant …" Link fumbled as he realised that, indeed, he didn't really know what he meant.

"What's there to tell that every person in Hyrule doesn't know already?"

"Lots actually. It wasn't all just battling monsters and exploring dungeons."

"Well, hurrah for you." Zayna laughed as he playfully threw the water pouch at her. Link couldn't help but grin, either.

"We should be at the village by now," he said, looking a bit tense. "In fact, we should be able to hear the people."

Link shifted in his saddle and strained to listen, but the only noises he could hear were horses hooves and his own breathing. Oil lamps attached to their saddles bounced and jingled as they rode. The lamps were there to keep the Stalfos away, and he could hear one or two of the braver ones shuffling in the distance.

Suddenly, Link caught the glimpse of a wooden building not too far away. It was the right place for the village, but something was wrong. The building should be well lit with torches at this time of night, but it seemed dark ... and empty. His heart thudded loudly in his chest and his unease grew. Another building appeared. It was dark, too. And now he could smell something. Something burning. Despite the chilly temperature, sweat poured down his forehead.

"Is that the -?"

"Draw your weapon!" Link hissed as he slid off Epona, his horse. Zayna was taken aback by his tone, but silently did as she was told. They checked that their swords, bows, quivers and shields were in place. Tying their horses to a tree, they crept forward, their armour and weapons clinking as they moved.

"What's happened?" Zayna whispered, in short, ragged breaths. The Hero wasn't too impressed by the excited edge to her words. Glancing at her, he saw that her face was tense; she still realised the gravity of the situation. Good.

Link was about to reply, when she heard him gasp in shock. Zayna was peering down at her feet, grimacing. Link followed her gaze. A villager. A rotund woman, the type you would think that was always jolly and whom children always loved. The duo didn't need to look twice to know that the woman was dead.

Link strode into the main forecourt of the village, gripping the hilt of his sword so tightly that his fingers almost drew blood. All the buildings were dark. Small fires crackled in some places, a trail of smoke floating into the air. Bodies lay everywhere, their faces contorted in terror and pain. Men. Women. Children.

One little girl lay in front of them, clutching a doll, eyes wide open in what seemed to be surprise, the dark stain of blood tainting her dress.

Zayna felt her anger rise as, kneeling, she closed the girl's eyes. "Who would do such a thing?"

"Not the Stalfos." Link's voice was controlled, but the tenseness in the muscles of his neck betrayed the fact he was choking his feelings down. "People did this, obviously."

"We should give them a proper burial. There's no honour leaving them laying like this."

"The ones that did this. They're the ones with no honour."

It took them all night, but they managed. After a quick search, they discovered a small graveyard in one corner of the village. Link dug, while Zayna brought the bodies. They worked silently, the grimness they felt inside mirrored the oppressive atmosphere weighing down on the entire area like a physical thing. By the time they finished they were filthy and exhausted. They had plenty of rations - dried meat, bread and crumbly cheese with a tangy taste. Neither had felt like eating. Even the heavens joined in, unleashing a torrent of rain that, thankfully, washed away the blood and put out the fires, leaving sizzling mounds of ash.

"Good," Zayna sniffed, glancing at the sky. "At least someone weeps for them."

Link turned to speak to her, but she had slipped into one of the huts before he had the chance. She was searching for clues, any hint as to the perpetrators of this vile act. Link didn't really want to see what other horrors lay indoors. Sometimes he noticed that she emerged from a hut even more tightlipped and ferociously scowled than usual. He heard a cucco crow as the first rays of sunlight split open the darkness of night. He looked back at the makeshift graveyard and felt sick from the large amount of new graves there. This was no way to die. An entire village! But why?

"Link!" Zayna rushed out of the hut, clutching something in her hand. Face pale and out of breath, she held up two small items. "Look."

One was a piece of cloth with a crest on it. The other an arrow. "Someone must have fought back". She explained, with a hint of pride. "Took these off the attackers."

Link looked at the crest and the arrow, a dull feeling in the pit of his heart. No, this couldn't be right. Both the cloth and the arrow had the Triforce symbol of the Royal Family upon it.

"Royal Guards did this?!" Link asked incredulously.

"Maybe," Zayna answered. "Maybe not."

"Whoever did this … can't be allowed to escape justice," he said.

Zayna's eyes flashed dangerously. Link noticed that she was clenching and unclenching her fist so violently that the skin threatened to split. Then he realised that he himself had his sword still ready while his other hand idly stroked the feathers of an arrow.

"Right," she said. "We should head to the Castle to find out, no?"

Again, Link stiffened. He hadn't been to the castle in many summers and had no inclination to do so. Link sighed and walked away. "Maybe these graves need headstones. A memorial or something."

Zayna noticed his indecision and ran after him. "Link," Zayna said, her voice soft. "People have died here. They weren't just killed, they were butchered!"

Link looked at some rocks with such intense concentration it was obvious that it was forced. "Maybe I could do something with these. Carve a nice tribute, yes?"

"Children were killed," Zayna continued. "Children, Link, children. Isn't a hero supposed to set things right?" She said the last with a hint of a smile. "Besides," she sniffed. "It's good for my 'Heroine' training."

Link gazed towards the rising sun, in the direction where the castle lay and pondered for a moment. The crossroads of fate and brought him to this decision. Closing his eyes, he knew that he'd never really be free from his destiny, his fate to be the Hero of Hyrule. He motioned at his apprentice. "Let's go."


	3. An Encounter in the Forest

**Chapter Two**

**An Encounter in the Forest**

"Zelda!" Cyle, King of Hyrule, pounded on the door, unsettling clouds of dust that then came to rest on his rich silk tunic. He brushed the filth off with a sound of exasperation, before banging on the door once again. "I command you to open this door! By royal decree!"

One or two chambermaids scurried away from the scene, pretending not to notice. A scowl creased his comely features, and he felt the heat of anger rise, making his temples throb. This would not do. He would not tolerate her humiliating him in front of the servants.

"I am sick, husband," came Zelda's voice from within. He hated the way she said 'husband', with that that slightly sour tone that she thought no one else would notice. "I need my rest."

"Zelda," he sighed, softening his tone. "You're always sick. I brought the finest physicians from all over the world to help you. And yet there you are – sick once again! How mysterious."

"Your 'finest physicians' tried to feed me Frog's Blood," she said from within, scorn trailing faintly in her tone. He had to admit she did sound weak. Maybe she really was sick? Or perhaps this solid wooden door masked her voice. "That made only made me fell worse. Much worse."

"I need you," Cyle said, resting his forehead and palm against the door. For a moment, had anyone been privy to the drama, he would genuinely have looked like a lovesick, rejected suitor. For a moment, the impartial observer would have pitied him, reached out to comfort him, then joined him in his earnest entreaties.

But only for a moment.

"The representative from the Morolak Kingdoms is coming today," he continued. "You know how people speak when you're not there to greet them."

"Let them gossip. At least now I see my worth to you. Another treaty is it? Another new trade route?"

"Damn it, Zelda, I need this treaty!" He thumped the door once more. A cloud of dust violently erupted, and he resisted the urge to sneeze.

"Why?" There was genuine curiosity in her voice now. "All these treaties and banquets with foreign dignitaries. Don't you have enough? What more could you want?"

Before he could reply a smartly attired Royal Messenger marched up the stairs to the landing where he stood. Quickly Cyle composed himself, suddenly deciding to take a deep interest in the silk curtains framing the window that looked into the passageway outside the Queen's chambers.

"Your Highness," the Messenger said, giving a short salute and clicking his heels.

"Yes, what is it, my loyal subject?" Cyle asked, his voice all sweet like honey now. For a moment, he swore he could hear Zelda giggling from the inside.

"Sir," the Messenger lowered his voice. "It's about the ... the 'situation', sir. We may have a lead on the target."

Cyle straightened. Good news at last! "Good," he said. "You have done well. Dismissed." He turned to the door again. "Oh, and Zelda, please do remember to wear the purple gown for when the Duke of Morolak comes, won't you, dear?" He followed his Messenger down, hoping his voice had been loud enough. It would do no good for the help to think that there were problems within the Royal marriage.

There were a few moments of silence, before the door to Zelda's chamber opened and a young girl popped her head out. Her eyes darted this way and that, before she proclaimed, "I think 'eez gone. Though he could be 'iding on the stairs."

"No need for the dramatics, Mina," Zelda said, opening the door further. "I doubt my husband would lower himself to skulking on the stairs."

"You never know wid men, Your Highness," Mina said, creeping out with theatrical aplomb, as though she were well-prepared for any eventuality.

Zelda smiled. She doubted that her petite advisor could help much if confronted with danger. She'd probably bolt faster than a wild horse from Lon Lon Ranch. Thinking of Lon Lon brought back the hurt of bad memories and she bottled the feeling, trying to concentrate on the present. "Yes, thank you for your advice, Mina. But we must make haste before the King returns."

Quickly they made their way down the stone steps, passing other doors as the flames of the torches fluttered. Dust was gathering on the hem of her swishing dress, but Zelda didn't care. Most of her clothes were worn and faded, much like her hair - once it had shone with its own golden light, now it was a but a shadow, more straw in colour than gold. Aged before her time, people said. Too much worry, people said. She wasn't bothered and it wasn't as though that many people got to see her nowadays, anyway.

They stopped short in front of a dark alcove. The niche extended inwards for a little while before ending in a wall. Mina took her place behind Zelda, out of force of habit more than anything else. They had done this many times before. Zelda waited until she could hear nothing but the sweet twitter of the birds outside. Then she raised her arms and closed her eyes. She muttered something as Mina shrank back from the green glow that enveloped Zelda's hands. The wall parted with a groan like some ancient, injured dragon taking in a deep breath. As soon as it opened, Zelda collapsed backwards. Mina was there to catch her, knowing that using magic always exhausted the Queen.

After a few moments, Mina helped Zelda through the opening and the wall slid shut behind them.

2

Their swords clashed. Link tried to shift Zayna's sword with his own, but she would not falter. This would certainly not be like their first duel. Zayna stared at him fiercely, drenched in sweat. She tried to push forward to gain an advantage.

"Don't get too close to your enemy," Link grunted, shifting his weight so that she fell back a little. She didn't answer, only tried to inch a bit closer, despite his ministrations. Link moved to the left, making Zayna sidestep. Closer. Closer. He kept moving, their swords locked, their horses watching them with bemused interest. The rush of blood, the flow of energy spreading through his veins like fire. He felt alive. Happy, almost. Here he could concentrate on things familiar to him. Here, he did not have to think about dead children or visiting the castle.

_There_. She had just stepped in some mud.

"It makes it easier for them to strike." Link spat the words out, thrusting his sword upwards, lifting Zayna's own blade in turn. She tried to maintain her grip by planting her feet firmly, but there was no traction from the mud. With a yelp, she slid backwards, her blade falling from her hands, before collapsing on her rear.

Link chuckled. "Two-nothing to me, I think."

Again that familiar scowl, before she said, "Don't celebrate just yet." She tried sweeping his legs from under him like she had done on their first meeting, but Link back flipped easily. As he landed he laughed and flipped again. He looked up as he landed once more and his mirth turned to shock. Zayna had her bow cocked and ready.

Before he had a chance to react, the arrow was speeding towards him. It pierced the tip of the loose shoulder area of his tunic, grazing the flesh, before pinning him to a tree behind him.

"Two-one," said Zayna lowering her bow. This time it was Link's turn to scowl.

Later, they started clearing the makeshift camp they had built. They were still in the forest, birds twittering softly in the swaying branches, but it wasn't too far to Hyrule Field. Link wondered what he would feel when he first saw all the old places again. The castle. Lon Lon Ranch. He shook his head to clear his mind.

The Hero realised he still knew next to nothing about his young apprentice. He cleared his throat, tentatively to ready himself to test the water. The small motion caught Zayna's attention and she raised an eyebrow. He tried to smile it off.

"Your family must be ... pleased that you've decided to train to become a warrior," he said.

"Not really," she said with a smirk. It seemed that she'd already guessed where this was going. "Not unless they're Gerudo."

"Ah, so ... when we reach the castle ... you'll no doubt want to visit them there ... ?"

"My parents are dead," she said bluntly. "I have no siblings."

"Oh." He blinked. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It was a long time ago."

An awkward silence hung in the air like a bad smell as Link sucked on his teeth, pretending to be engrossed in the tidying. "So you must have been living with…?"

"Link," she said, with a tone of finality. "You're a fine hero. But dreadful at investigations."

The Hero of Time almost felt the rush of colour to his face, but he forced it down quickly. Zayna chuckled, but mention of the castle had made her frown.

"So, I was thinking," said Zayna, her tone casual, as they crouched by a tree clearing up the last remnants of a meal. "You go to the castle. You find the Queen. You find out what's happening."

"Me?" Link asked cautiously. "What are you going to do?"

"I'll go to the Goron Village and wait."

"What?!" the Hero cried, aghast. "You were dead set against going to the Gorons first. Now you want to rearrange the plan again."

When Zayna was silent, Link continued. "You don't want to go to the Castle, do you? There's something there ... that you're trying to avoid."

Zayna looked up and Link was surprised at the look of fear in her eyes. It made her look like a child. "I can't go there, Link. Last night, I was angry ... I didn't think."

"Why can't you go?" Link asked, concern and curiosity winning out over the heat of confused anger. Again, she stayed silent. He sighed softly, seeing an opportunity. "I don't really want to go either."

"Whatever is preventing you from going is not as bad as what is preventing me, Link."

"Oh?" Link felt annoyed. Zayna's attitude must be rubbing off on him. "And how am I supposed to know that your reason is worse than mine if you don't tell me what it is?"

Zayna looked up, this time with an imploring look in her eyes. "Just trust me," she said, her voice soft. "Besides, you have to go. You need to find out what happened at the village."

The burning arrow sizzled through the air embedding itself in the tree beside them, its tail still vibrating from the force. They barely had time to react before the world went completely insane.

3

The old man looked up from his book, frowning at his visitors. "Zelda," he said. "You look … well." The Queen saw Mina flinch from his use of her name. Only the King referred to her by her first name. Everyone else called her 'Queen' or 'Your Majesty' or 'Your Highness'. "And, Mina, dear ... how are you?"

"We're both fine, Tyron," Zelda said. "And you very well know I do not look well."

"Well, it always does me good to see you on these little visits."

The Old Man of Hyrule Castle was a well-known legend amongst Hylians. He was a sorcerer, they said. Made love potions that melted the hardest of hearts and had the power to make even Ganon cower. Zelda didn't think he looked like doing much of either. They were seated in his tiny, dust-drenched secret room. Tyron was one of the King's advisors and had his own official chamber, but here they were away from prying eyes and prying ears. Mina could be trusted, so Zelda had brought her along. Besides, Cyle had a new advisor now. Someone named Chalance Vance. Zelda shuddered. For some reason she could sense Vance's presence oozing through the castle. Icy cold hatred radiated from him.

Zelda looked around the room. It was not a pretty sight. The air smelt of musty paper. Scrolls and books lay haphazardly everywhere. The Queen caught Mina's eye, saw the look of disapproval etched on her round face. Her ingrained instincts as a maid must be going wild at the sight.

The Queen gazed at Tyron. For an 'Old Man' he looked quite muscular and his long, flowing silver hair even made him look somewhat dignified. Despite the general public's image him, he had not yet grown a long, grey beard. 'To the Pit with that nonsense', he had said. Zelda smiled.

"Tyron," she said. Not sure exactly how to phrase her question, she went straight to the point. "What's going on?"

"What do you mean, dear?" Idly he licked the tip of one finger before turning the page of his book.

"You know what I mean. My dreams are back. More vivid. All I see is shadow and pain." Zelda saw Mina try to look inconspicuous. Her old friend had been there when she awoke screaming from her nightmares. Screaming so much that blood flooded into her mouth. Of course, Cyle wasn't there. They hardly ever slept in the same bed together anymore. _Hmm. Cyle_. "And my husband is up to something. I don't know what."

Tyron looked uncomfortable. "I no longer know what you're husband is doing." A tiny frown crossed his face. "Chalance Vance is a powerful sorcerer and has put blocking spells all around him."

Zelda took in a sharp breath. "Vance is a sorcerer?"

"Naturally, dear. Why else do you think he is around?"

She didn't have time to consider this. "And my dreams?"

"Well," he said with a wry smile. "If I said 'Dark Things are Afoot", would I sound a bit silly?"

Zelda giggled. "Yes, you would." She looked at Mina. Her Advisor was busy pouring over some books she knew she very well couldn't read. Zelda trusted her the most though out of all her handmaidens. They were just glorified chambermaids really, though occasionally she had taken the odd one or two into her counsel. And then there was the one she had lost…

"So, are they?" Zelda asked.

"Are what?" Tyron replied.

"Dark Things," she said, "are they Afoot?"

Tyron looked grave. "You know," he said. "I have no idea what that even means."

Zelda looked at him incredulously for a moment before bursting out laughing. "Tyron!" she said, trying to muster up anger she did not feel. "This is serious."

He chuckled. "I know, dear ... but sometimes it does one good to be jovial." He looked pensive for a moment. "Something _is_ happening. What, I don't know. I think ... Vance maybe interfering with my ... abilities. Maybe the King ... will no longer have any need of my services."

She was shocked. "What do you mean? He cannot dismiss you, I will forbid him."

Tyron looked at her, sadness flooding his face. "Do not worry about me, dear. It takes a lot to dislodge the Old Man of Hyrule Castle. Besides, think of the outcry from my adoring admirers."

Zelda smiled. "What can we do? What is the nature of the threat?"

"I wish I knew. As to what we can do, at the moment we just wait and watch." There was a slight pause where he looked like he was going to do something distasteful before he asked, "Why do you put up with him?"

"Who?"

"You _know_ who."

The Queen struggled to keep her composure, mulling over the right words to speak. Slowly, she spoke; chewing over each word like it was a morsel of food. "I could annul the marriage." She heard Mina gasp at that, but somehow Zelda felt a burden lift from her heart when she put into words thoughts that had dwelled for months. She was surprised to realise that she hadn't really noticed the burden until now.

"But … ?" Tyron prodded.

Zelda sighed. "They don't see me, Tyron, but I'm still here for my people. Here, in this marriage, I can still influence things."

"If the marriage ended you would still be Queen. Cyle would lose his title – he was only given it as an honour from the public anyway." He tried too hard to keep his tone neutral, and Zelda could see the hints clearly like piercing stars in the night.

"Cyle has ... made powerful friends. I didn't realise at first. He was always eager to meet with rulers from overseas. A little bribe here. A little favour there. Now, he has a very strong net spread across the world. Yes, I would still be Queen, but he would have the power." Zelda cursed herself for being a fool as the words slipped out. Why hadn't she seen it earlier? Was she so smitten with him that she'd failed to see the obvious? "So you see," she continued. "Whilst I am still in this marriage, I have some influence. He wouldn't dare treat me badly in public. His friends maybe greedy and power-hungry, but they still have some twisted sense of honour. His image with them would drop if he tried anything against me. And that gives me an advantage. If the marriage ended, he could do whatever he wanted and no one would bat an eyelid. Such is the way of our world." She said the last with a hint of bitterness.

Zelda looked up to see Tyron smiling. He'd understood all right. He had probably understood a lot earlier than she had.

"Cyle will not rule the world," she said, her voice hard. "Not while I am alive."

A look of satisfaction softened his face. "What makes you think he wants to rule the world?" Tyron asked, but they both knew he knew the answer.

"He's pushing his foreign policy harder. He's up to something. Cyle isn't the type for invasions and war – and whom would he war against? He's practically befriended most of the other kingdoms. I just cannot tell what he is preparing for."

Her eyes flicked to the tiny slit of a window set in one wall, noticing the position of the sun. Zelda got up to leave. "Come, Mina. My husband will no doubt be back soon."

Tyron gave her a mock salute. "Your Highness."

"Thank you, Tyron," she said as the duo made their way to the door. "My path is clear, but difficult."

He nodded, not replying to her words. "Oh, one more thing," Tyron said offhandedly.

"Yes?"

"Link is coming back"

4

Two more burning arrows knocked chunks of wood out of the tree, hot splinters raining down on the Hero and his apprentice. They both dived for cover, and drew their swords with a metallic echo. Link heard the whiz of the arrows and stayed low.

Then, abruptly, the arrows stopped. The silence was so overwhelming and unexpected that Link could hear both himself and Zayna breathing hard. He glanced over to her. She looked back, wide eyed, and gave him a small shrug. Suddenly he felt reality _ripple_ as if he was a piece of cloth buffeted by a strong wind.

Crashing through the trees came two riders, dressed in dark red with snorting black horses and red eyes. They searched for their targets, a megaton hammer swinging from one hand, bows carved from black marble in the other. For some reason, Link couldn't focus on the riders. They seemed to shimmer in and out of reality. Link's head swam.

Out of the corner of his eye, Link saw his and Zayna's horses bolt in fright. Other small animals darted in and out of the trees, squeaking in panic.

One of the Riders fixed its gaze onto the Hero. The look itself felt like a needle of lead drilling through his head. He felt transfixed as the rider charged, swinging its hammer. Link's mouth dried. His vision locked, tunnel-like, onto the Riders eyes. The world spun out of control. For one, frozen heartbeat, Link heard nothing except galloping hooves. Then, he heard a wolf howl. A raven caw. All he could think of was this demon heading towards him. The Rider's eyes loomed larger and larger as he drew closer to his target. Link's body spasmed as he tried to fight the paralysis that ran like liquid steel through his veins. What was happening? He had to fight. He tried to unclench his jaws and gasped in pain from the sheer effort. Slowly, shakily, his mouth shuddered open as he saw the Rider swing the hammer for the kill.

Link roared and dived. He felt the hot swing of the hammer just miss his neck and plunge into a tree, disintegrating it into ash. Link rolled and tasted blood in his mouth. He raised his sword as the Rider turned around for another pass.

It charged. Link had no time to react and he dived straight at the horse's hooves. He felt the horse crunch into his body with unnaturally hot feet. His head bounced once, twice. A tooth went flying. Something slashed his forehead and he felt warm liquid trickle down his face. He lost his grip on his sword. Then the horse was gone.

Link scrabbled for his sword and picked himself up. Everything ached. Everything felt broken. His breath was too short, and each one brought fresh blood from his mouth to his lips. He glanced towards Zayna, but couldn't see her because of the blur of movement from the other Rider. He tried to call out to her, but opening his mouth sent a spasm of pain through his entire body.

He looked up, struggling to keep conscious. He saw the Rider, sitting there, watching him. Link raised his sword in a one-handed grip. He _felt_ rather than saw the smile from the Rider. The demon readied itself for another charge.

This time, Link held his ground as the Rider drew closer and closer. He wiped the blood that was now pouring into his own eyes and looked straight into the horse's eyes to keep his gaze away from the Rider. They were gaining at a tremendous speed, faster than any horse he had ever seen.

The demon raised its hammer, screaming in victory. Link focused. Closer. _Now._ With his sword free hand, he whipped out his hookshot from his belt and flicked the activation switch. The whirring spike spun past the Rider's head and found a thick branch that Link had spotted earlier. With a ferocious tug, the Hero of Time was lifted off the ground. He swung over the horse as he felt himself be propelled towards the tree where his hookshot was lodged. Waves of heat radiated from both the beast and its rider. As he flew closer to the Rider, he swung his sword to attack.

There was a metallic hiss as the sword connected, then flew out of his hand. Link slammed into the tree and all breath left him. He dangled from his hookshot as vomit threatened to overwhelm his throat. Everything was spinning. It felt too hot. Link realised that he'd overestimated himself. He wasn't just a little out of practice – he was a lot. And it could cost him and Zayna their lives. Link disengaged the hookshot and fell to the ground in a painful heap.

He crawled forward. "You found me," he spat. "Come and get me, demons." One hand in front of the other, he tried to reach the Rider. He could see the creature in the distance through his stinging, blood covered eyes. Everything was a red haze.

The Rider regarded him with amusement. When it spoke it was like a million screaming nightmares rolled into one. Once again, Link could _feel _the voice rather than _hear_ it.

"We're not here for you, 'Hero'," it said, the voice itself opening the gates of despair to anyone who heard it. "We're here for **_her_**"

"Zayna …?" Link's head hit the ground and his world dissolved into darkness.


	4. She Strikes

**Chapter Three**

**She Strikes**

Duke Skulljack, emissary for the Morolak Kingdoms, was a pig. Not a real pig, of course, Cyle thought as he watched the Duke's massive frame quiver while he munched down on honey-roasted cucco. Not even pig-ish like Ganon, but he wondered whether the Dark Lord himself would cower before the gorging skills of this man. No, he corrected himself, as the Duke helped himself to some Hylian Salmon, even pigs themselves would be embarrassed to be associated with him. The Duke somehow managed to eat the roast cucco and the fish all at once, not noticing or caring about the flecks of spit-covered food that rolled down to his beard. Even the Duke's wife looked mildly annoyed.

"I trust that the meal is to your satisfaction?" Cyle said, a smile fixed on his face. The smile, he knew, worked wonders. It enhanced his already comely features to a new degree. People couldn't help but respond to it. After all, it had already bagged him one Queen and a myriad treaties.

"No, actually," the Duke slobbered, wiping his mouth with a greasy sleeve. "Your cook should be flayed."

The corner of Cyle's mouth winced minutely, but he congratulated himself on maintaining his smile. He supposed it didn't work on one such as Skulljack. Why should someone who had no care for his own appearance be affected by another's? "I'll see it is done first thing in the morning."

The Duke's eyes glowed at this. "Good! Good!" Then he bellowed with laughter. "You're a good man, King Cyle. I can see it'll be a pleasure working with you."

"Why thank you, Duke. You honour us with your presence."

The Duke gave a little shrug, then tore into a hunk of crackling hot meat, freshly delivered from the kitchen.

Disgusting. Cyle's gaze swept over the Main Hall of the castle where the feast was taking place. The happy murmur of well-fed revellers reached his ears and he felt content. Well, almost content. Seated at the Grand Table, the Duke and Duchess were to his left. But to his right was the cold, empty seat where his Queen should have been. Cyle frowned.

"The Queen will not join us?" the Duchess asked. There seemed to be a hint of challenge in her voice. Cyle shrugged the thought away. Now was not the time for his imagination to get the better of him.

"Ah," he said. "I'm afraid Zelda is not feeling very well."

"Nothing serious I hope?" This time he heard genuine concern. Cyle knew an advantage when he saw one. He weighed up his words in his mind before speaking.

"Actually, it may very well be quite serious. I've had to gather my best physicians, but …"Cyle left the thought unsaid. He frowned slightly to indicate his despondency. He didn't want to over act though, so his smile came back easily, but still he saw the look of mild horror on her face. Her defences were broken. He grinned inwardly.

"Oh dear," the Duchess said. "If there is anything we can do …"

"Ah, no, Milady." Cyle's heart soared. He sensed victory. "Just your kind offer is enough ... and, of course smooth negotiations between our two great nations."

"But of course," she said, scowling at her husband as he tucked into his fruit dessert.

Ha! This one was going to be easy. Zelda may think that her absence would upset the balance, but it had done quite the opposite. Cyle was still surprised and somewhat amused by the states of unease that existed between Hyrule and her neighbouring countries. Wars declared long ago, but never fought, had soured international relations. Zelda's doddering old fool of a father had done nothing to change this situation. It had taken Cyle's wit and intelligence to achieve what needed to be done. No more would Hyrule be thought of as 'Evil's Den' or 'Ganon's Home' overseas. Soon, Hyrule would be centre of a great civilisation. _His _civilisation.

Cyle heard the Duchess sharply scold her husband. He let the voices fade away and returned to observing the celebration. His Advisor, Chalance Vance, had warned him that the festivities were premature. The Morolak Kingdoms were the second to last nation to sign the Hyrulian Pact. Cyle felt certain that they would sign now. There was still the Freelander Emirate, but Cyle was feeling confident that nothing would stand in his way. It was a giddy feeling.

Vance had argued to postpone the celebrations until after Prince Chizan – the Freelander representative - had signed, but Cyle had waved his objection away. There had not been a celebration for a long time in Hyrule Castle. They could have an even bigger one when Chizan signed. Besides, they could afford it now with all the new trade routes that had been opened.

Cyle eyed his Advisor, sitting at a table on the far right of the Hall. Chalance Vance looked almost comical. While everyone around him bellowed in laughter and merriment, Vance sat there, his mouth in a thin line, taking everything in with a stony glare. Cyle stifled a laugh, before catching his breath. Just at that moment Vance had turned and looked directly at him. Cyle felt his heart turn to ice. Chalance Vance was not pleased.

The King gave a brief nod to his Advisor before turning away, unsettled. They had found Vance on one of their early trips abroad in ... what country was it now? He shook his head. For some reason he couldn't quite remember. It was no matter. Vance had helped them win an audience with the local sovereign, leading to the signing of a trade pact that had flooded the Castle's town with wealth. Many had rejoiced that day. The children in the town had even gathered at the castle gate, shuffling shyly before breaking into a song praising the King. Oh, and Zelda too. Though he was certain it was mostly for him and the verse 'She of Golden Hair That Doth Glow, Beloved to All, All Beloved to Her' must surely be an aberration.

One fool had tried to sing about that Triforce Cursed 'Hero of Time' before his guards put a stop to it. Privately he had ordered his Guards to quell any public display of affection for Link, but publicly he had spun a story saying that the Guards act independently due to their jealousy of the Hero that his subjects were so enamoured with. It would do no good for the public to know that Cyle nursed an acidic hatred against Link.

Vance had sidled up to him after that incident and told him in his quiet, yet clear voice that he could have the fool silenced ... permanently. Cyle had let him keep the fool as a reward, though he was not sure what had become of him. It was after ... what event was it again? No matter. Something important had happened and he had made Vance his primary Advisor. Zelda had been thrilled. Or had she vehemently opposed it?

Still, Cyle had been very pleased with his new Advisor, so he could understand the slight hostility Vance felt for being dragged to this event. Surely Vance would not be the type to hold a grudge over something so trivial, would he?

Suddenly deciding he didn't want to think of his Advisor anymore, Cyle looked towards the table on the far left. Seated there were the representatives from the other races of Hyrule. There. Princess Ruto, her fishskin gown shimmering in the torch light. She had been Queen Ruto for a while after her father had died, but Cyle had a royal decree issued stating that there was only room for one Queen in this land. _His _Queen.

In a huddle of men, there was his other Advisor, Tyron. Every so often there would be moments of silence as Tyron muttered silently while his comrades listened, intense expressions hanging from their faces. Then his voice would suddenly rise, leading to what Cyle assumed was the punchline, before the whole table exploded in a roar of laughter. Cyle grinned, suddenly missing the feeling of being amongst such close friends. He hesitated for a moment, feeling the whisper of doubt. Who exactly were _his_ close friends?

Occasionally, he saw Tyron give a wary glance in Vance's direction. He wondered if there was some sort of professional jealousy going on. That must be it. He even recalled Vance telling him that Tyron was a 'nuisance' that should be dealt with. His Advisor certainly had a flair for the theatrical.

In between the two great tables, merrymakers danced and children played. Lavish silk drapes adorned the hall and in one corner an orchestra played light, uplifting music. People were laughing, men were shouting in good-natured banter and women quietly conversed with one another. The smell of roasted vegetables, melted butter and sizzling meat pervaded the Great Hall, though Cyle had lost his appetite after seeing the Duke devour his meal.

He glanced over at the Duke and saw his head bounce repeatedly against his chest as he tried to keep from snoozing. He saw that the Duchess was deep in conversation with one of her handmaidens. There would be time for negotiations later.

Cyle caught a glimpse of the Goron representative sulking in one corner. King Darunia had been the last to hold out on signing the One Hyrule Pact that he had made with the other races. Darunia felt that the Gorons were an independent race and needed no official unity with the Hylian King. The Gorons had been the toughest ones to crack. Cyle had been surprised at that.

The Gerudo had fallen into line. He had thought that they would put up a fight, but they were becoming poorer and needed the trade. An empty stomach was an easy tool for an ambitious monarch like himself. Princess Ruto had only agreed after speaking with Zelda. This was before Zelda had decided she no longer wanted to play a part in Hyrule's glorious future. More fool her.

Darunia had held out till the end. Vance had promised to deal with 'the old fool' and 'make him see sense', but the Goron King had fallen mysteriously ill before Vance had a chance to visit. Or had he fallen ill after Vance had returned from a visit?

Cyle pursed his lips. It must be all the excitement and the stress. That was probably why he couldn't think straight. The excitement was from the near completion of his plan. The stress ... he didn't really want to think about that now. The target was still out there and Chalance Vance's agents had not given an update on the chase. They had spotted the target, but whether it had been caught yet, he still did not know. Besides, watching the Duke eat was enough to scatter one's mind.

The King bristled and the Hall fell into confused silence as the Royal Anthem rang out from outside the door. What was going on? Cyle was bewildered. The Anthem was only made when a member of the family made a public appearance. He would have the head of whichever drunken trumpeter had made such an idiotic error. Or hand them over to Vance. He had noticed that people would rather prefer a beheading than an audience with his Advisor. Somehow, that made him feel uncomfortable.

Cyle was distracted as the doors to the Great Hall creaked slowly open. All eyes turned to the person making their entrance. One or two plates crashed to the floor and shattered. Some women gasped in shock, while some of the men began murmuring. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ruto's face crack into a wide grin. Beside him, he heard the Duchess exclaim indignantly, "Well, she doesn't look very sick to me!"

2

"Yoooo hooooooooo!"

Link had to admit this was the most annoying fairy he had ever met. "Let me sleep," he slurred.

"Hahaha. Oh great and mighty hero! Still need your beauty sleep, eh? Eh?! Haha."

This fairy had an irritating tendency to laugh for no reason. Link growled and shifted in his bed. Ow. Why did it hurt to do that? Through the veil of semi-consciousness, Link could hear people talking in the distance. Probably from outside. He heard the tingle of children's laughter. Something about children bothered him though.

"My goodness! Haha. The Hero of Time! The Lazy Ass of Plenty of Time, more like!"

The fairy was one step away from being hookshotted. Link was tired. He needed to sleep. In the morning he had to get to Xeno's and meet with Shade. They were awaiting the next would-be apprentice. A woman this time.

Link's forehead creased. Wait. That wasn't right. He did not have time to ponder the matter as the fairy had decided to start kicking his head. That was it. Link bolted upright with a roar. Splinters of pain racked his body and he started spluttering into a coughing fit.

"Oh dear. Haha. Oh my goodness me." Link forced his eyes open and was met with an awful sight. This was no fairy.

The Hero of Time yelped and leapt backwards, banging his head. Before him stood the ugliest creature he had ever seen. Barely two feet high, the dark grey monstrosity was covered from head to toe in warts and gazed at him with yellow, bloodshot eyes.

The thing looked left. Then it looked right. Then it peered over its shoulder. "What?" it said, pointing to itself. "You weren't frightened of little ol' me, were you? Haha."

Link took a deep breath. "No. Of course not," he said. He looked at the thing again and swallowed. Link opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't quite form the words he wanted. Instead he went with, "What are you?"

"Well, nice to meet you too! I am Chitz, good sir. And for your information, I am an Imp."

Link rubbed his head. "There are no Imps in Hyrule," he said. "They come from the Southern Continent."

"Yess," Chitz continued in a 'and how stupid are you?' voice. "And I came from the South."

"Right," Link grunted. Chitz watched him as he shuffled painfully out of the bed. Link was in an unfamiliar room. It was sparsely furnished, just one bed and an oil lamp that creaked while it hung from the wooden ceiling. There was a small window that let in a tiny wedge of eye-watering sunlight. For some reason, Link didn't feel like looking outside. The bed and the walls were covered with richly textured furs of brown and cream. Homely, Link thought.

He looked down and noticed all the fresh scars crisscrossing his body. Some of them were stitching marks. He winced as he managed to poke his tongue through a hole where a tooth should have been. His body felt like lead and ached. Link tried stretching his arms and legs, but hissed in pain from the stiffness.

There was something else too. A dull pain in his heart, like the burning embers of a dying fire. It felt like he was missing something. Or someone. Link tried to think and got a splitting headache for his efforts.

Malon ..?

Zelda ..?

"Zayna!" Link spun around to grab the Imp.

"Hey! Haha. Hey! Hands off the merchandise!" Chitz slipped out of his grip as Link fell to his knees. He tried to crawl forward, but vomit rushed into his throat. "Yuck! Haha! Better get Fran."

Link watched the Imp scarper off as memories flooded into his mind. The Riders. Being trampled. The abnormal heat. The voice like despair. Zayna. Link retched again.

3

"So," said Fran Marcaster. They were seated in the host's modest dining room. Thankfully, the Imp was nowhere to be seen. Link had recovered somewhat, but sudden movements still resulted in knife-like pains. He played with his Cucco soup, but didn't have much of an appetite. "There was me, there was Lorfor and there was Maken. A finer hunting party you would never see." The gentle looking man sighed deeply in pride.

Link looked up at him, but didn't speak. Fran took the hint and cleared his throat.

"So there we were. Hunting in the Forest of Melody, when suddenly Maken gives a shout. 'Hey, Fran look what I found.' We made our way over, hoping that he'd bagged some nice, fat boar that would do nicely for supper. You ever eat boar?"

Link shrugged. "Maybe."

Fran cleared his throat again, embarrassed. "Well, there was no boar that night. And what do we see instead?"

The hunter pointed at the Hero gleefully. "You!"

"Yes, me," Link said, a little testily. He should be grateful. Fran had probably saved his life. He could imagine the look of shock on the kind-faced man before when he and his friends stumbled over the Link's dying body, staining the leaves with blood. He wondered why they had gone so far out to hunt, but decided that he should be glad that they had. Still. He couldn't shake the feeling of gloom.

"In a right state you were. Well beaten," Fran said. He paused to sip from his soup before continuing cautiously. "Got in a fight with some Stalfos did you?"

Link could tell he was probing, but decided to ignore it. He felt a little guilty at that and felt like he did owe Fran an explanation. But he needed information more than Fran did. "Was there anyone else? A woman?"

Fran raised an eyebrow at this. Link saw the thought flicker across his features.

"She was a friend," the Hero added hastily.

"Aye, a friend." He didn't sound very convinced. "All we found was you, your weapons and two untethered horses."

Link sighed with relief. At least Epona was alright. He didn't understand why the Riders had not finished him off. Perhaps they had thought that they had done enough and left him to die. They were probably right, too. He felt strangely calm though and some of his sour feelings started to dissipate. They had taken Zayna, that was certain. And he was still alive, which was certain also. That equation resulted in a lot of bother for the Riders when he caught up with them. Link felt a little exhilarated that his old confidence was returning. Rescue the girl and save the world. Well, rescue the girl. Just like old times.

"We put you on horseback and galloped as fast as the wind itself. Blood pouring everywhere, there was. We managed to get home at the dead of night, while everyone was sleeping. Old Lorfor was petrified that you'd die in our hands and would come back to haunt him." Fran chuckled. "I had no doubts you'd make it. Knowing who you are now it was obvious. But your face was in such a mess, we didn't have a clue. We took you to the village Healer who recognised you straight away. He put herbs on your wounds while my daughter stitched you."

"Daughter?" Link had only been awake a few hours, but was under the impression that Fran lived alone. Apart from the Imp, of course.

"Aye," Fran said. "She's gone to the big feast over at the castle."

"Feast at the castle?" Before the man could answer, Link realised something. "Wait. What village is this?"

"Why," Fran said, his voice puffing with pride. "Lon Lon Village of course."

Link' s heart sank even further.

4

Zelda strode into the Great Hall, surrounded by an entourage of her maids and royal advisors. Mina was at her side, holding her arm. The Queen glowed. Her cheeks were rosy, and her hair glittered like diamonds. Cyle realised that she'd added some sort of sparkle cosmetic to it. She hadn't looked this good in many summers. So pretty, so healthy so…_alive_. Every person she passed gave a short bow and murmured, "Your Majesty." Cyle noticed that she had kept her distance from Chalance Vance, looking even slightly nauseous while passing him. _Interesting_. Zelda flashed a grin to Ruto before stopping before the Grand Table.

Cyle fumed behind his smile. She had done this deliberately to humiliate him. It was an undermining of his power. She was wearing her traditional pink dress as well, and not the purple gown like he had ordered. He hated pink.

"Duke. Duchess." She nodded to each one in turn. "Please forgive me for my tardiness."

"Your majesty," the Duchess answered, her voice warm, but uncertain. "So good to see you made such a ... speedy recovery."

Zelda didn't miss a beat. "We have very fine physicians here. As I'm sure my husband has informed you of." Finally, she turned to Cyle and smiled.

"He has indeed," the Duchess said doubtfully.

"So good to see you up and about, dear," Cyle said. "Please take a seat." He motioned to the empty chair beside him. A servant rushed up and pulled it out.

Zelda did not move. Cyle's hand was still outstretched, and he felt his cheeks start to colour.

Silence oppressed the air. The King's eyes flicked up to the Queen's face, who returned the gaze coolly. What was she up to?

Zelda spun around gracefully to face the revellers. "People of Hyrule," she said, her voice raised.

Cyle froze. For one awful and surreal moment he honestly thought Zelda was going to speak on the marriage in front of all these people.

"Noble visitors of the Morolak Kingdom!"

All eyes were upon her, the people's faces etched with expectation. The King suddenly felt tense. He twitched involuntarily.

"Welcome to my Castle!" She smiled and the Hall erupted in a cheer, scaring even some birds that had nested in the high ceiling.

Cyle swallowed the bitterness down as Zelda sat beside him. _Her_ castle? What was she planning? This had been a victory for her, that was for sure. He frowned at the thought, wondering exactly when this had turned into a war. She had never been so ... forward before. But the message was clear. The people loved her more than they did him. He glanced up at her and caught the amusement in her eyes.

"Shame on you, husband," she said, her voice light. "For not welcoming the people earlier."

Cyle gritted his teeth. "I was only awaiting your presence, fair one," he said, which elicited a raised eyebrow from the Duchess.

The Duke had snoozed through it all, only to grunt and shuffle a bit from the cheering. Zelda turned to regard his wife. "Duchess," she said. "I look forward to our negotiations." Cyle opened his mouth to protest, but the Duke took this moment to wake up. A moment of confusion flickered over the Duchesses' features. She had not expected to be part of the talks.

"But of course, Your Majesty," she said. "It would be good for all four of us to be there. Isn't that right?"

The Duke looked lost before saying, "Yes, yes. Of course."

Now Cyle could say nothing without him losing face. "Naturally," he said, planting his most dazzling smile on his handsome features. "That was always the plan."

"Naturally," chuckled Zelda.

5

Fran was worried that his daughter had not returned yet, and had headed out to the castle, muttering unflattering things about the girl's mother. He had offered to take Link too, but the Hero of Time had declined, claiming that he was not fully recovered yet. Fran had accepted this with no complaints and, after showing him where Epona and his supplies were, galloped off. He had assured him that apart from the hunting party, the Healer and the Imp, no one else knew he was here. Link thought that that was four people too many.

Link wandered the narrow streets of Lon Lon Village, a hood partially covering his face, partly because he still looked beaten and partly because he did not want to be recognised. Especially not here.

His facial injuries were worse than he thought. After Chitz had brought him a mirror, Link saw the thin, long scar on his forehead, the bruised cheekbone that had inflamed into a grape coloured ball, and saw that one of his eyes was still blood red.

"Haha. What do you think about that, oh handsome hero?" Chitz had said. "Even I look better than you! Haha."

Link had thrown the mirror at him.

He had given his thanks to the Healer, a kindly, surprisingly young man that had appreciated his comments and appreciated his rupees even more. Now Link walked the streets, dogs darting through his legs, vendors selling meat sticks that spat sizzling fat from the grill and set off plumes of roast smelling smoke into the sky. Children giggled and bothered the mask sellers who half-heartedly tried to shoo them away. People pushed against him, smiling apologetically. No one recognised him. Apparently there was some great feast day happening and so everyone was wearing their best as they cheerfully made their way through the day.

Lon Lon Village was one of the many new settlements that had sprung up over the summers. The new wealth that Hyrule had acquired had led to an expansion in towns and a renovation of Hyrule Market and Castle. Or so Link had heard. He hadn't bothered to check it out himself.

Link glanced to the right. In the distance he saw Lon Lon Ranch. Summers ago, that would have set off warm memories, but now it filled him with dread, foreboding and a sharp tug of pain. Talon would be in this village. He knew it. The man must always trade here. Link was taking a big risk by walking in public like this. Part of him told him to run and hide in Fran's house. The other part of him, the traitorous part, wanted him to seek out Talon and explain everything. Not that Talon would listen or anything.

No, the sooner he was out of here, the better. As soon as Fran was back, he'd make his goodbyes and go

Link saw a small crowd surround some children who were enthusiastically yelling. He paused to watch. One child in an ugly, green mask and arms outstretched stomped theatrically towards a little, blond girl in pink.

"Zelda! Give me the Triforce!" Ugly bellowed. The little girl put the back of the hand to her forehead. "Never, you fiend!" she squeaked. She looked to the crowd, an imploring look in eys. "Won't somebody please help me?" Link wondered what the real Zelda would think of this portrayal of her.

"Hi-yaaaaa!" A small boy in green leapt into the fray. He waved his little wooden sword so menacingly that Link was worried that he would take someone's eye out. "I am Link! Prepare to perish, Flabby One!"

Apparently, the mindless waving did the trick as Ugly fell to his knees, screaming. "Arrggh! I will get you, Hero of Time! Mark my words!"

Just then, the door to a nearby tavern burst open and a Royal Guard lurched out. "Hey," he said, slurring his words. "Whass goin on?" The Guard clutched at the 'Link' child who easily slipped away, giggling. "Hey! Who you sssuposssed to be? Don't you know ... thas illegal?" He stumbled over the girl, who started weeping.

"Whass you cryin about?" The guard growled at the girl. Link felt his face flush from anger. He reached for his sword, before realising it was not there. He had taken it to be repaired. It was bent in two from the battle with the Riders. and had an ugly black mark on it that shimmered like the night.

The tavernkeeper came running out, his belly jiggling, and scooped up the girl. "Now, now, Milch," he said, a threat in his tone. "Just children playing. Nothing for you to get worked up about." The guard considered this for a moment and seemed ready to strike. Some other men joined in and put their arms around the guard, whispering promises about buying him a drink, before he stumbled off cursing.

Link sighed and turned away, wondering why the guard was not at the castle. Soon, he found his destination and entered the Weapons Shop, making the bell jingle.

The shopkeeper looked up and smiled. "Ah," he said. "The outsider." He winked and handed over Link's sword, which was now wrapped in white cloth. "Nice sword you got there."

"Thank you," Link answered. "How much do I owe you for your service?"

"Why," the shopkeeper laughed, looking a little aghast. "No charge for one such as you." He winked again.

Link grimaced. The man had recognised him just from his sword. There was no honour in accepting a service without due payment. The Hero let his gaze wander as the shopkeeper waited.

"Say," Link said. "How much is that Rubber Spiked Hammer ... up there?" The shopkeeper followed to where Link was pointing and pursed his lips.

"Not much demand for that." He looked back at Link carefully. "Can't see why one such as yourself would need one."

Link shrugged sheepishly and smiled.

The shopkeeper sighed. "Alright. Just give me a moment to go get it."

As soon as his back was turned, Link flicked some rupees onto the counter and walked swiftly out.

The sun was starting to set and the sky had turned an angry red. A cool breeze blew and that, combined with the bustling crowds eager to get home, knocked his hood off. Link wasn't paying attention. He unwrapped his sword and, turning the gleaming blade in his hands, admired it in the freshly burning torchlights. He smiled. Everything seemed fine. He slid the sword back into its scabbard. Now he felt whole!

Link looked up. For a moment, he did not recognise the man and the man did not recognise him. Then, a child's voice called. "Hey! Isn't that the Hero of Time?"

The man stiffened and looked up. Oh no, thought Link. The man's face contorted into a scowl of rage as Link tried to fend off the growing crowd of children that were now pooling around his legs.

"Murderer!" Talon bellowed, a fat, shaky finger pointing at Link. "You killed my daughter!"


	5. Meetings with Mystical People

**Chapter Four**

**Meetings with Mystical People**

They didn't travel like normal people. But then, Zayna thought, her captors were far from normal. She was breathing deeply, her heart skipping. Enveloped in sweat, she kept herself from whimpering. Usually she would have flared against herself for the weakness, but not this time. Being tied up she could tolerate, shimmering bands of energy locking her wrists and ankles together. Bonds were bonds. She'd been held captive before; she was used to it. She'd just exchanged iron chains for magical ones. But the travelling. Oh, how she loathed the travelling.

She spied the two Riders raising their arms with a hiss, and she almost wept from the dread. It was time to go. Why they kept stopping, she couldn't quite tell. They travelled to many places, but only stopped for a few hours or so in each. A lush, humid jungle where exotic, brightly coloured animals eyed her with curiosity. A cold desolate land where the ground seemed to be made from marble, and the night appeared to be etched permanently to the vault of the sky. None of the places were the final destination, and Zayna guessed that perhaps the effort of travelling exhausted them as much as it drained her. They obviously couldn't travel in public. And now it was time to leave again. Her breathing started coming heavier and her heart roared with thuds. Eyes scrunched shut and teeth gritted, she braced herself.

Then it happened. She felt every inch of her body, every muscle, sinew, organ, bone and vein rip apart as it was literally removed from reality. Her mouth opened and she tried to scream, but nothing came out save blood. She could see colours - red, yellow, green, even those with no names. She saw nothing. She saw herself as a child, energetic, grinning. Happy. She saw nothing. Then, she saw herself as an awkward and sullen adolescent, grief and confusion lining her face. Loneliness and isolation her only companions. She saw nothing.

She felt herself be slowly and painfully rearranged as she shifted back to reality. Cold air gusted upon her sweat-soaked skin and she gulped for breaths as her body kicked back into functioning normally. Real air had never tasted so sweet. She fell to her knees and wept.

2

Zelda breathed deeply, letting the wind play with her hair. She stood atop the newly built Tower of Hyrule with the Morolak Duchess. The Tower was another of her husband's extravagances. Built of reflective marble that made it glow in daylight, it soared above the castle as if it could pierce the sky. She had to admit, though. It did have a great view.

She let her gaze wander over Hyrule. In the distance she saw Lake Hylia glistening, and beyond that she knew lay the Winding Sea. Columns of white smoke drifted from cooking fires from Kakariko and similar villages. Death Mountain, high and proud, still managed to dwarf the Tower. Nothing Cyle could build would challenge the Mountain's supremacy.

The Queen peered downward. She felt slightly dizzy from the height, and she could see hundreds of tiny people scurrying this way and that. For a moment she felt she could lift them all in her hand and cradle them lovingly. So many lives. So much responsibility. _Her_ responsibility.

With a conscious effort of will, she kept her gaze away from Lon Lon Ranch and its village and peered over towards where the desert lay. Link was coming. How Tyron had known that, she didn't know, but then, she thought wryly, Tyron knew many things. Link may already be in Hyrule Field, for all she knew. What was he doing here? Would he come and see her? She couldn't decide how she felt about that, and decided she did not even want to think about it now.

Zelda looked towards the Duchess. Toriya, her name was, Zelda remembered. "What do you think?" she asked with a smile.

Toriya responded in kind. "It's beautiful…but," and here her smile grew a little wider. "Not as beautiful as my home."

They were alone up here atop the gently swaying tower. Their personal guards had wanted to join them, but Zelda had scolded them in mock anger. Who would come and attack them up there? Still. The guards were worried that one of them may slip or catch on a railing and fall. The Queen had shooed them away, but she knew they waited on the dust-covered, stone stairs that led up here. She had no problem with that. On the stairs, they could hear next to nothing of their conversation.

Zelda took in a deep breath, before saying with some warmth, "I really appreciated our little discussions."

"I, too," Toriya replied, still smiling. After the official negotiations, Toriya had visited Zelda almost every evening, chatting into the night. In hushed whispers, the servants were now gossiping that the Duchess saw more of Zelda than the King did. Cyle hadn't liked that one bit. He still had not spoken to her more than a few, polite sentences ever since she had shown him up at the feast.

Toriya had seemingly unearthed a new-found respect for Zelda after the negotiations. Zelda was shocked at the terms of the treaty. Somehow, Cyle had managed to charm the Duke into opening trade routes that would result in the majority of wealth landing in the laps of Hylian traders. He had also – and this bothered her the most – got the Duke to agree to letting Hyrule control fifty percent of the Morolak army in the case of 'grave emergency'.

Pushing and prodding and putting Cyle into situations that would embarrass him if he disagreed, Zelda had managed to get the terms renegotiated so that the Morolak Kingdoms would be an equal ally to Hyrule.

Toriya had appreciated this greatly and she turned to Zelda now with a serious look. "Zelda," she said. "If you ever need anything. Ever. Come to me and I will be more than willing to move mountains to aid you."

Zelda blushed slightly at the intensity of the words. "Thank you. Thank you so very much. And I hope I can offer you the same in return."

"You have already done enough. My husband is a fool and I grow weary of him." It was then that Zelda realised who the power was in that marriage. Toriya unclipped a golden star-shaped pendant from her gown and pressed it into Zelda's hands. "This will give you safe passage in my Kingdoms. I'm sure my King and Queen would be more than happy to meet you."

Zelda frowned. Why would she ever need safe passage? Still. She realised the significance of the act. "I am grateful."

"Now I'm afraid I must depart. I think the dumpling Duke is ready to seek out new lands for new culinary adventures," she said sourly.

Zelda laughed, before being surprised by a vice-like hug. The Queen hugged her back, eyes closed. It had been a long while since she had had the simple pleasure of genuine companionship.

"Take good care of yourself, Your Majesty," Toriya whispered. With that, the Duchess turned and made for the stairs.

The Queen's heart blossomed into happiness. There were six other nations surrounding Hyrule. Cyle had gained the friendship of four of them. But the Morolak Kingdoms were her ally now. A small victory, but a victory nonetheless. All that was left was Prince Chizan of the Freelander Emirate. He was due this very night, and Zelda needed to talk to Tyron to prepare.

3

The floor was cold and grey. Zayna could hear faint musical humming from all around her. Her memories struggled to reorder themselves and for a faint moment, she thought she was back home as a child by a crackling fire with her mother's soft voice singing to her. Her heart tugged at the memory, but it melted when her mind righted itself. She knew exactly where she was and it dismayed her. The Temple of Time.

Her bonds were gone. She looked up just as her mind acknowledged the fact in surprise. Further down the hall she saw the two Riders standing there, statue like. Watching.

Strength flooded back into her limbs and she slowly got to her feet. Screaming with indignation, she flung herself forward. They were too far ahead of her, so when she landed, she rolled and sprang forward again. She landed with a slight slip in front of the duo. She knew this was insane. They had bested her before and more than likely had killed Link. The last thought ignited her anger once more, mildly surprising though it was.

Swinging one leg around in a fluid arc, she kicked one Rider in the face with a crack that resounded through the Temple. It had barely flinched. She thrust her hand forward to strike its chest. Again, just the hint, barely noticeable, of a flinch.

"Stop it." For a moment, she thought one of the Riders had spoken, before she realised that she recognised the voice. She felt nauseous and unconsciously took a step back.

"Chalance Vance." Even saying his name made her mouth taste bad. She had known all along of course. No one else but the King's newest Advisor would have summoned such monstrosities as the Demon Riders just to hunt her down.

The small, thin sorcerer stepped out from behind the Riders. "You remember me," he said, his voice barely a hoarse whisper. Zayna had to strain to listen. "I'm touched."

Zayna reached out to grab him, but the crimson-clad arm of a Rider shot out, like lightening, to block.

"What's the matter, Vance?" she said, some of her confidence returning. It was fuelled by fury. How dare this pitiful little dishonourable man hound her life? "Too scared to fight me without your poodles?"

Vance scowled.

"They were just like puppy dogs," she cooed. "Had you both eating out of my hands, didn't I boys? In fact," she added, with a wink, "I asked for them to bring me here."

The Riders did not react at all, but Vance had turned as red as their clothes, and was seething furiously. "I hardly think so." He said, spitting out each word. "You are here, because I wanted you here."

His expression softened and he gently lifted the arm of the Rider so he could slip past. He slowly walked up to Zayna until they were face to face. She held his gaze with a hot, unblinking stare. He shifted his weight onto his toes and leaned forward so closely she could feel his breath on her face. Zayna stiffened, disgusted. "And because," he said, reaching a hand up to stroke her hair. "I have power over you."

Zayna pushed him backwards with such force that the Riders had to catch him. As he scrambled back up with the Riders moving slowly to help him, she stretched into a fighting stance and waited. He struggled, cursing. His cloak had gotten tangled with his face and he fought to regain his composure, while Zayna narrowed her eyes, watching. His face appeared. There. Zayna lashed out with a liquid-quick kick. _Crunch._ Vance howled in pain, clutching his nose as the blood started to fly.

In an instant, the Riders moved. Two impossibly hot hands grabbed her arms and lifted her up. Zayna moaned in pain as despair filled her whole being. It radiated out from the Riders and penetrated to the marrow of her bones. She slumped to the ground, defeated.

"What now?" she choked. "You take me to the King?"

Vance nursed his nose with a silk handkerchief. A woman's handkerchief, Zayna noted. She felt a small thrill of satisfaction as she saw how stained the cloth with the deep scarlet tint of his blood.

"No, not yet," he said, his voice now nasal sounding. He looked up at the Riders. "Take her to my private dungeons."

4

"What happened to your nose?" Cyle asked curiously.

Vance grimaced as he peered at the King through a face cast. "It was nothing. I was a little drunk and walked into a door."

Cyle raised an eyebrow. Chalance Vance had never drunk anything stronger than water for all the time he had known him. He decided not to pursue the matter.

"The Prince is due soon. And … Zelda is becoming a nuisance. I cannot let her interfere like she did the last time." Cyle still burned with anger over his defeat in the Morolak negotiations.

"She will be dealt with," Vance said.

Cyle pondered. "It will be difficult. The people love her …"

"Do not worry, I have a plan."

Cyle looked uncomfortable. He didn't like the sound of any plan from Chalance Vance. No doubt his Advisor would not be willing to fill him in on the details "And." Cyle's voice faltered. He swallowed hard before he continued. "She is not to come to any harm, you understand?"

Vance sneered. "Spare me. Are you getting all sappy now?"

Cyle sprang up, hot rage bubbling in his heart, and grabbed the Advisor in a tight vice. " I _said_ … **do** … **you** … **under** … **_stand_**?"

Chalance Vance glowered back. For a moment, Cyle felt a little dizzy. Perhaps it had been a mistake to touch his Advisor. He swore he heard faint crackles of energy hissing in the air. Tiny sparkles of blue light popped in front of his eyes. Then he felt Vance relax in his grip, and give him a smile that was almost as chilling as his usual stone like expression.

"Yes, Your Highness," he said.

Cyle waved away what he had just experienced a moment ago. Just his imagination, surely.

"But." Cyle froze as Vance continued. "You have to consider the possibility that you may never see her again." Cyle bristled and Vance held up a hand. "Ah. Ah. Hear me out. She will be alive … but perhaps out of reach."

The King slumped in his chair and rubbed his temples. _Why did you have to be so difficult about everything, Zelda? _he mused. He was just trying to do the best for Hyrule. For her people.

Cyle felt sick. "Do whatever needs to be done," he said, the distasteful clear in his tone. He turned away before he could see Vance smile. "What of the other … girl?"

"Ah." Cyle noticed out of the corner of his eye that Vance had shifted uncomfortably. "My agents are still chasing her. Do not fear, my liege, I will punish them for their slackness. Still," and here his voice suddenly became deeper, making Cyle want to rest his eyes for some reason. "It is of no consequence."

This felt, at that moment in time, like the most correct thing in the world to Cyle. He had been certain about nothing before in his life except this. "Yes," he said, his voice sleepy. "No consequence."

Suddenly the door to Royal Chamber rang with thuds. Cyle snapped awake. What was he just discussing?

"Your Highness!" came the voice from outside. "Prince Chizan has arrived."

5

King Cyle had never seen a Freelander. He had been briefed, of course. Cyle would never begin negotiations without being fully prepared. He walked with his Royal Guard to the castle gate, while torches flickered, elongating their shadows. Cyle had given strict orders that the Queen was not to be notified about the Prince's arrival. He had also commanded Vance not to join him. Especially not while he looked so ridiculous with his facecast.

Apparently the Freelanders were a noble, warrior race much like the ancient and long extinct Sheikah of Hyrule. They were skilled in weaponry and the art of war. Cyle's mouth watered at this. Skilled warriors were a great asset. Especially if Vance could get the girl and begin the final stage of the plan.

There was another thing, too. Freelanders were Hylian in appearance but they … looked slightly different. It had something to do with their skin.

Cyle pondered over this as they walked into the cool, night air. Their boots thudded on the wood, making the drawbridge vibrate. He could see the Freelander party in the distance, illuminated by torch light. They were all hooded and he could make out no distinct features.

His Guards marched to a stop in front of a rider whose horse was waiting a little bit ahead of the group. The horse shook its head and snorted. He guessed that the rider must be the Prince. Cyle stepped forward and gave a short bow.

Smiling, he said, "The Kingdom of Hyrule welcomes you, Prince Chizan and your fellow Freelanders!" His voice rang out and echoed through the night.

With a flick of his wrist, Chizan dropped his hood. Cyle heard one or two of his guards gasp, but he himself managed to maintain his composure, despite being clearly taken aback. The man was gold! Not golden looking or having golden skin. He literally shone like gold.

The Prince's large, oval purple eyes looked over the King. "I accept your welcome," he said, in a confident, yet measured voice. "And I greet you, Link, Hero of Time."


	6. Malon

**Chapter Five**

**Malon**

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Link watched the water drop from the ceiling of his cell. There was little else to do. He lay on the stone bed, his back stiff. His forehead still throbbed from his scar, split once again when Talon had punched him. It had been chaos afterwards.

Talon had lunged at him, scattering the children in fright. People had looked up, bewildered, and wondering at the commotion. They had both crashed to the ground, Link hitting the back of his head hard. Talon was screaming incoherently as he tore out clumps of Link's hair, then proceeded to add to the bruises on his face. That had actually worked to Link's advantage. When some men dragged Talon off of him, Link had stood shakily, but his face was a mess and his hair dyed with blood, so no one had recognised him.

"Murderer!" Talon had kept spitting the word out in amongst his incoherent ramblings. An accusation that grave could not be ignored and so Link had been taken into custody. The next night Fran had scrambled in through the Guardhouse, frantic with concern, and shaking with fright. Link had disappeared and Fran was worried sick. When he had heard about the commotion the day earlier his instincts told him that it was Link.

Fran had stood outside the cell, holding onto the bars tightly, his hair ruffled, his clothes a mess. "What," he had asked, "is going on, Link?"

And so Link told him.

2

It had been many summers ago…

"Zelda has really taken to him," said Malon. "Don't you think?"

Link watched as Cyle Narawan, one of the young noblemen of Hyrule, kneeled theatrically in front of a giggling Princess Zelda. Cyle's hand reached to his scabbard, paused and then, with a wink, pulled out a rose. Zelda giggled even harder and Cyle grinned back at her.

"I suppose," Link said.

Malon chuckled. "Are you jealous, Link?"

Link turned his full attention to Malon and smiled. "No," he said. "I don't believe I am."

Malon glanced at Zelda out of the corner of her eye. The Princess was shrieking now as Cyle chased her around Lon Lon Ranch. Turning back to face Link, Malon chewed the inside of her cheek, her forehead creased in thought.

"You know," she said, idly putting her hands behind her back and sighing with a dramatic flourish. "I wish someone would bring _me_ a rose."

Link digested this, deep in thought. He gazed off into the distance and then nodded. "To feed your cows, you mean?"

"Link!" Malon shrieked, lightly slapping on his shoulder.

Link laughed. Malon laughed. The Princess laughed. Cyle laughed.

Oh, to be twenty three summers old again…

They had planned a trip to Death Mountain, an expedition. An adventure, Malon had called it.

The night before the big trip, Link had laid in the hay in one of the stables. He was looking up at the glinting moonlight, while Malon lay on her front, her chin resting on her hands. Her heels kicked the air playfully.

"I always dreamt," Malon said slowly, her eyes shining. "That a knight would come on a horse and one day take me away from here."

Malon giggled – a nervous, yet somehow endearing sound - as if she realised how silly she sounded.

"Well," Link said, thoughtful once more. "I think Cyle only has room for Zelda on his horse."

She gave a small smile, but didn't give into the tease this time. She pressed her lips together, looking pensive. "Don't you ever think of … you know, settling down?"

Link didn't answer. He just gazed at the moon as if he had not heard her.

Malon sighed. "Link. Didn't you have any dreams when you were younger? Hopes?"

Link turned his head and looked directly at her. Malon was taken aback by how much he had changed since first meeting him.

"I only wanted to feel like I belonged." He said it with an intensity that surprised her.

She picked up a straw from one of the hay bundles and started chewing it. "But didn't you..?"

"I was the Kokiri with no fairy. Everyone else had one. _Everyone._"

Malon waited for him to continue.

"It used to make me weep," he said. "Of course, I was only ten then." He smiled ruefully.

Malon smiled back. "But for a ten year old that could feel like the end of the world."

"Exactly," Link said.

"Here on the Ranch," Malon said. "There was just Pa and Ingo."

"Oh, so you must have felt the same?"

Malon thought a bit. "And there were my Cuccos."

Link fought back a smile.

"And my horses."

Link was grinning now.

"Oh…and mustn't forget my cows."

He was laughing now and Malon was glad. "Link," she said. "Do you feel like you belong now?"

The Hero of Time looked at her. "What…at this very moment?"

Malon shrugged. It wasn't really the question she was asking. She had meant in general.

"At this very moment…yes, yes I do. Very much."

Things had gone wrong. A wizard, a madman had interrupted their trip. Wanted the Triforce of course. He had kidnapped Zelda and Malon. Talon had found out when Link and Cyle returned to the Ranch for more weapons. The trio had battled through a hidden dungeon that the wizard had created from magical energy. Finally they had found their way to the two girls.

Picture the scene…

Magma rolled slowly in front of Link, in hot, lazy waves. The heat shimmered in the air, distorting the young Hylian's vision. On the far side opposite him hung Malon and Zelda from two ropes. The wizard, old and toothless, cackled from a raised platform. His arms raised, he was literally sucking the life out of the Princess. Malon was unharmed.

In an alcove to the right lay Talon. He was shaking from fright, more for Malon than for himself. In an alcove to the left lay Cyle, unconscious. Beside him was a lever for the wooden, magic-charmed platform underneath. The magic had made the platform soft and yet magma resistant. Cyle managed to drag the lever partway, before he had been stopped somehow. Now, the platform only extended so far, beneath Zelda, but not Malon.

Link looked up. Malon was tied higher than Zelda, and the Princess was slowly fading away, her hair turning grey, her face lined with wrinkles. She had been tied so that she was facing away from him and Malon towards him. Link raised his bow and his heart quaked. Malon was in the way of Zelda's rope. The only way to save Zelda, would be to shoot through Malon.

"Do it, Link!" Malon screamed. "The Princess is more important!"

The Hero of Time, who had faced down Ganondorf and then Ganon himself, shook with fear. Link looked at Malon. Her eyes were glistening with terror, but her back was straight and her face set. She was ready. He had never felt more proud of her than he had at that moment. "Do it," she pleaded.

Link pulled back the drawstring. The bow stretched, the arrow aimed. He gripped it harder to keep himself from shaking. His teeth chattered and he bit his lip so hard it split, filling his mouth with the salty taste of blood. He almost whimpered, but forced it back. He was the Hero of Time. He had the Triforce of Courage. And yet, even all this couldn't stop his vision blurring as tears pooled in his eyes. His soul felt as though it were being shredded apart.

He peered down the length of the grainy wooden shaft of the arrow, its metal tip in line with Malon's throat.

A heartbeat.

"Do it," she repeated.

Zelda's head slumped.

"Do it."

Another heartbeat.

"Do it."

Zelda faded.

"Do it."

"No," he whispered. At the very last moment he jerked the bow up and released the arrow. He let the bow clatter to the floor. Smooth and quick, he reached back for his boomerang and flung it at the lever.

The arrow sliced through Malon's rope a split second before he heard the boomerang clang against the lever. The arrow clattered against the rock ceiling, missing Zelda's rope. He reached down for his bow to save the Princess, safe in the knowledge that Malon would land on the platform below.

Only the platform hadn't budged.

The scream that would haunt his every night tore through the cavern. Link heard Talon howl in rage and pain and he dropped to his knees, stunned. He looked towards the left alcove.

Cyle was awake. He was hanging on to the lever. He had stopped the lever from moving.

Zelda spun on the rope as the wizard laughed at Link's predicament.

_He had stopped the lever from moving._

Cyle whipped his own bow out, aimed it at Zelda's binds and let free the arrow.

_He had stopped the lever from moving._

Talon was weeping. The steam from magma lava had clouded the ranch owner's view and to him it had seemed Link had let Malon plummet to her doom, just so he could get a clear shot at Zelda's rope. Either way, Link could not win.

_He had stopped the lever from moving._

Zelda landed in a heap. Cyle pulled free a green-tinted magic arrow, then readied his bow. The wizard howled in rage as the arrow went straight through his heart.

_The bastard had stopped the lever from moving._

Cyle hookshotted across to Zelda. She stirred in his arms before slowly awakening. The colour was returning to her face and hair. "What happened?" she said sleepily.

"I saved you," he said with a gallant smile.

Zelda gazed up at that smile, her expression dreamlike. Her own mouth started to spread in a slow grin. "You did?"

She sat up, as Cyle held her. "Where's Malon? And why is Talon crying?"

Cyle cocked his head towards Link. "Ask your _hero."_

3

Three summers passed since that fateful day and Link found himself in Zelda's chamber

"Marry _you?" _ Zelda folded her arms across her chest, while Link found something interesting to gaze at on the floor.

There was a moment's silence as Zelda continued to glare at him. Finally Link spoke. "Zelda…you've grown to become my best friend. No. You're more than that. I…" His voice trailed off. He wasn't good at expressing his feelings.

"Link," she said, her tone laced with sadness. She didn't really know how to say what she wanted to. She decided to go straight to the point. "I'm going to marry Cyle."

Link growled in anger. "The murderer, you mean?"

"Link!" she said sharply. Zelda sighed. Link had taken Malon's death too hard. "Link," her voice was softer now. "It was an accident. You were trying to save me. It's no good blaming Cyle. He's a _good _man."

"He's a _good _man," Link mocked.

She slapped him, her eyes angry.

"His word over mine is it?"

Zelda stayed silent for a moment. Then she said, "I think you should go."

"He's a murderer. He's scum. You'll live to regret marrying him."

The words were said with such ferocity that Zelda was at a loss for words for a moment. Then the heat rose to her voice. "You know something. The prophecy says that every hundred summers an evil rises and every hundred summers someone 'good' comes to stop it. Well, hey, here's an idea. Why don't we just get _rid_ of the alleged good guy and maybe we won't have to suffer the evil every generation, _would we?_ After all, if one doesn't exist, then the other surely can't. Maybe, the evil _only_ exists _because_ of the good. That just makes the good just as _bad_ as the one he fights, I think."

Link was stung. Zelda flushed with guilt.

He walked up to her. "You're making a mistake."

Link left and had not seen Zelda ever since.

4

Fran stood open-mouthed as a teary eyed Link finished his story. "We're going to need a _lot_ of help."


	7. That Sinking Feeling

**Chapter Six**

**That Sinking Feeling**  
  
"What? The woman?"  
  
Duchess Toriya of the Morolak Kingdoms sighed. Momentarily, she peered out of the carriage carrying her and her husband. Outside, she saw the green grass of Hyrule Field sway in the breeze. The carriage bounced gently as it moved. The sun warmed her face and she could smell the salty air of the nearby sea. It had taken them a day's travel to get here, mainly because the Duke had insisted on stopping at every single tavern to take a meal. Their honour guard followed them at a respectful distance, heavily armoured and wearing the ruby crest of their land.  
  
She turned to regard her husband. "Yes. The Queen."  
  
The Duke snorted. "Whoever heard of such nonsense? A woman challenging for power? Ha!"  
  
Toriya pursed her lips together. She wasn't sure what Zelda was up to, but it seemed to her that her nation needed to be cautious. She certainly hoped that Zelda knew what she was doing, but if all went wrong, then there could be a civil war between the Hylian King and Queen. "She is a strong woman. We would be well advised to keep her close."  
  
"Have all you wenches gone mad?! It is Cyle we should be flattering. Now there's a real man."  
  
"Lest you forget," Toriya said, using the tone of voice that she used whenever her children got too unruly. "If not for Zelda, we would be going home to tell King Starzin that we'd almost handed half our army over to the Hylian monarch. Don't think I won't report every single thing that happened."  
  
Skulljack hissed. "I knew it was a mistake to have you attend the negotiations."  
  
Toriya stayed silent, watching her husband bite into a cold, slightly grey meat pie. Once again she wondered at the sanity of her parents for marrying her off to such a man. She had only been fourteen when she had presented before Skulljack, his little eyes examining her greedily. She had felt sick under his gaze. Skulljack had been flabby even then. He had attended all their meetings in their forced 'courting' with at least one item of food permanently stuffed in his mouth. Toriya glanced at him now. "Having a bite to eat for a change?" she asked, sarcasm spiking her words.  
  
Before he could reply, the driver 'whoa-ed' in a loud, deep voice bringing the horses to a stop. One of the honour guards, his armour clinking against his weapons, opened a door and helped the Duchess down to the ground. She hugged her shawl tightly around herself to protect herself from the sharply cold sea air. She heard the waves crashing against the shore, while Skulljack went through his usual routine of taking an age to disembark. Naturally, he blamed the guards, the size of the carriage and even the horses. Anyone but himself.  
  
Not waiting for him, she walked towards the ship as it gently bobbed up and down in the private bay reserved for royal visitors. She walked up the gangplank, nodding at all the salutes she received from the crewmen.  
  
"Duchess," the Captain said, saluting.  
  
"Captain," she replied, her voice warm. She watched as the Duke struggled to board the ship. "The minute everyone is on board, we set sail."  
  
"Yes, ma'am," he said, spinning around to bark out orders.  
  
It would be good to go home, she thought as she gazed out over the waves. Skulljack may not have seen it, but there was certainly a power struggle going on in the land of Hyrule. Cyle may have all the influence, but she felt that it would be her nation's moral duty to side with Zelda. Something about the King just was not right. She grimaced at the thought of his ghastly Advisor that tailed him like he was an extension of Cyle's body. There would be much to discuss when they returned home.  
  
Her thoughts were broken by the deep groan of machinery being pulled and readied. She spun around to face Hyrule. Over the crest of a hill emerged gargantuan wooden war machines, creaking and straining. Each one, coated in flaking black paint, reached up to a catapult loaded with heavy, crumbling grey boulders. On an adjacent hill, she saw a flash of blue before at least a dozen Royal Hylian archers emerged, bows aimed, flaming arrows readied.  
  
There was a moment of deathly silence where the Morolaks and the Hylians stared at each other, then with a series of '_thwips_' the arrows started flying. The ship jolted from the impacts. There was a hellish scrape of metal, and then a low whistling before a boulder splashed into the water making. The vessel lurched to one side in response.  
  
Skulljack gaped in horror whilst the other crewmembers darted about in panic. Another boulder came crashing down, this time nicking the side of the ship. The vessel, letting free an otherworldly howl, was pushed dangerously downwards for an instant.  
  
Toriya got to her feet. "Get to the cannons!" she bellowed. Her voice seemed to break some of the men out of their shock, and they scurried below deck to the weapons. "Captain! Raise the anchor and get us out of here!"  
  
The Captain froze and the Duchess ran to the anchor herself, jumping over ropes and tearing her dress in the process. _Curse these infernal royal gowns!_ She grasped the chain and pulled, her face tightening from the effort. Tears came to her eyes as she realised it was too much for her, and her palms stung with blood. Some shamefaced crewmembers, their manners lost for an instant, shoved her out of the way, then heaved on the anchor with a cry.  
  
Toriya felt the anchor tear away and the ship began to drift outwards. She knew what she had to do and made her way to the hatch that would lead below deck, screams and arrows following her progress.  
  
Suddenly a sailor appeared before her, eyes wide in panic and opening his mouth to speak before an arrow pierced his throat and pinned him to a cabin. The Duchess brought a hand to her mouth as the man gurgled in pain. Hot tears sprang to her eyes.  
  
The ship shook as the cannons started to boom, filling her vision with smoke. Someone grabbed her arm and she spun around to see her husband, shaking with fear.  
  
"Toriya! Toriya! What's going on? The ship … the ship will sink!"  
  
The Duchess wrenched her arm free with a snarl. "I'm surprised your girth hasn't sunk it already!"  
  
She knew they were not going to make it out alive as she clambered below deck. Her king and queen had to be notified and so she made straight for the messenger birds. She heard the '_whoomph'_ of something catching fire above, her stomach twisting in response. Dodging injured men laying on the deck and moaning, Toriya noticed that the wooden floor was already soaked red with blood. Grabbing a quill and a scroll, she quickly jotted down a message before tying it to the scaly leg of a bird as it cooed quietly.  
  
Briefly, she considered sending a message to Zelda, but knew that Cyle or his Advisor would get it first.  
  
Opening the window she let the bird free and watched it flutter away. She smelt burning smoke and heard the splintering crash of a boulder ramming into the deck.  
  
Once.  
  
Twice.  
  
Thrice.

2  
  
"You don't write, you don't visit," Princess Ruto, the Sage of Water said with a laugh. "I'm beginning to think you don't love me anymore".  
  
Zelda laughed as Ruto pouted. A little guiltily, she realised that this had been her first meeting with the Zora Princess since the feast day. She had been so busy with Duchess Toriya that she had almost forgotten about her old friend. Tyron had informed her that Prince Chizan had indeed arrived the night before and Cyle was trying to keep her away from him. It was of little concern. She would get her chance to speak with him. Cyle could not keep him hidden forever.  
  
"You must forgive me," she said. "I've been ... indisposed."  
  
"Indisposed, is it?" Ruto answered, a glint in her eye. "I'm trying to remember when you started talking so ... formal."

The Queen resisted the unladylike urge to poke out her tongue.  
  
They sat in Zelda's chamber, sitting crosslegged. Mina was bustling away in the corner tidying Zelda's clothes, whistling a happy tune.  
  
"With all due respect," Ruto said. "You are well, aren't you? We heard … rumours."  
  
Rumours started by her husband no doubt, Zelda mused. Despite her flippant tone, Ruto, her silver skin shining in the light, still carried herself like a true Princess, more than Zelda herself ever could. All of a sudden, the Queen felt an ache in her heart. How long had it been since she had spoken to Ruto? Too long, that was for sure. She missed all her friends now. Why had she locked herself away? She frowned. No, why had she let Cyle lock her away?  
  
"I am fine, my friend," Zelda said with a sigh. "How are things with the Zora?"  
  
Ruto stretched, a lazy gesture. "Oh ... same old. We swim We fish. We sell the fish to the King." She winked. "My children keep me busy now. I didn't realise how much they brought to my life. And Mayro has been a wonderful husband so far. I was lucky to have met him." She started playing with a pearl, rolling it through her fingers. "So .. how are things between you and Cyle?"  
  
"Never better," Zelda said, grinning. "We were surely meant for one another."  
  
Zelda hadn't told Ruto about Link's return. She and Tyron had decided that the less people that knew the better. Besides, she didn't even know for certain if he really was back.  
  
Ruto eyed Zelda with amusement. "Your Majesty. Verily, you are a terrible liar."  
  
The Queen laughed.  
  
"Forsooth," Ruto said waving her arm in a regal manner.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Erm ... Thouest art the liarest?"  
  
Zelda snorted.  
  
"Oh, never mind." Ruto said, as they both laughed. "I'd wager that they have special classes where you have to learn to talk like that."  
  
Zelda sighed and hugged her legs. "Ruto, it has been too long. I've been foolish, letting myself ..." she trailed off, not knowing what to say next.  
  
Suddenly Ruto grasped her wrist so tightly that it hurt. Zelda almost flinched from the heat of her stare. Ruto spoke, her voice hushed, but serious. "Your Majesty. The Zora are always at your service. No matter what."  
  
Ruto released her. Zelda was a little shaken, but slightly pleased. Yet another ally.  
  
There was knock at the door and the Queen made a motion to Mina, indicating for her to open it.  
  
"So," Ruto continued, smiling as if nothing had just happened. "My children would love to visit the castle one day and meet the mythical Queen Zelda,"  
  
Zelda grimaced. "I'm not mythical, Ruto," she said as Mina handed over a scroll that the visitor had just delivered. "And you and your family are always welcome in my castle."  
  
The Queen unrolled the parchment, then read the words. Her heart skipped and her face paled in shock. She read the words again, slower this time.  
  
"Zelda ..?" Ruto asked softly, concerned. "Is everything alright?"  
  
Zelda sprang to her feet. "Mina! Get me a Messenger!" 

3  
  
Cyle drummed his fingers on the table as he watched the Freelander. Chizan held the stare, his purple eyes mellow. Either side of the Prince there stood two Freelander Guards, their bodies covered in armour with sharp weapons glinting. They must have over fifty weapons attached to them. He saw a dagger in a chest pouch, a sword strapped to their back, a knife hanging at their waist, and shuriken peeking out from a leg pocket. The King wondered who exactly they had to be so well-protected against. He'd gotten used to their liquid gold complexion, but he still couldn't help but marvel at their patience. While the Prince had gone to refresh himself, the two guards had stood unmoving in the same position for over two hours. Now here they were again, making not even the slightest of movements.  
  
Cyle was flanked by Chalance Vance and one of his own Royal Guards. The Guard had shifted from foot to foot impatiently. The King had been embarrassed by his Guard's fidgeting in the face of the Freelander serenity. This, he knew, had given the visitors a mental edge even before the talks had begun. He promised to have the Guard severely punished.  
  
"So," Chizan said, his voice smooth and calm. "If you are not Link, then who are you?"  
  
The King's forehead creased at the man's insolence. "I most certainly am not Link." He almost spat the words. "I am Cyle Narawan, King of Hyrule."  
  
Chizan digested this, silent and thoughtful. "And what is your accomplishment, Cyle Narawan?"  
  
Cyle gritted his teeth. How dare he call him by his first name? "My accomplishment?!"  
  
"Yes," the Freelander replied, a bit surprised. "Your Heroic Deed."  
  
What nonsense was this? "I have no heroic deed!" He caught one of the Freelanders shift. Just a tiny movement. What had it been ... surprise? Shock? Disgust?  
  
The Prince simply arched an eyebrow. "You do not make your heroes the rulers in this land?"  
  
"No, we do not," Cyle said, a little too quickly. He felt Vance's cold, clammy hand on his arm, restraining him.  
  
The Prince was silent. He did not move for a while. Cyle found the statuelike pose a little unnerving.  
  
"Why have you summoned us here, Cyle Narawan of No Heroic Deed?"  
  
The King wasn't sure if that was an insult or not, but he fixed his smile in place regardless, then said, "Our two great nations have lived side by side for many thousands of summers. It is time for us to join as one. We will pool our resources and learn from one another. It is surely amazing that this has not been attempted before. There is so much we can mutually benefit by. Trade. Culture. Knowledge." Cyle paused. "Fighting skills." The King raised his arms and laughed. "Incredible, is it not, that we have not joined much earlier?"  
  
He turned to Vance and his Guard who both nodded vigorously. "You speak the truth, Your Highness," they both said.  
  
"What exactly do you propose should take place between my noble nation ... and your nation?" the Prince asked.  
  
Cyle noticed that the Prince hadn't added the 'noble' when talking about Hyrule. Something else was bothering him, but he couldn't quite put his finger on exactly what. Nevermind. This was the meat of the matter.  
  
"Ah," he said. Cyle bowed his head humbly. "The Freelanders have the martial skills that we sadly lack. We would greatly benefit from your deep wisdom. In return, you will establish trade routes with Hyrule. You must have heard of our .. fortunate wealth by now, and word must have reached you that all but the Freelanders have joined with us."  
  
"And?"  
  
Cyle was getting irritated. What more could this man want than money? "And ... whatever else you require. The Hylian King's guarantee for protection for one thing."  
  
"Protection given by one who has no Deed?"  
  
Cyle finally realised what had been bothering him "How do you know of the Hero of Time?"  
  
Chizan's face brightened. "The Hero of Time is well known to us. Our prophecies speak of him. Tales about him from your land are brought to us and we make songs and dedicate feast days to him." Cyle felt a little sick, hearing that. "He is the slayer of evil, the breaker of destiny, the one who changes dynasties."  
  
"Changes dynasties?" Cyle laughed. "He has not done that!"  
  
"Not yet."  
  
Cyle was silenced by the almost chilling certainty in the Prince's voice. He coughed to cover for his discomfort. "Prince Chizan," he outstretched his hands to the Freelander. "This is an opportunity you can ill afford to miss." Cyle pondered for a moment before adding, "If you sign today, I will let you meet the Hero of Time himself. In fact, he can be the official emissary between Hyrule and the Freelander Emirate."  
  
Cyle felt Chalance Vance stiffen beside him as the lies poured out. The King saw something soften in the Prince's features though, as if the man had come to some decision. The King's heart stirred in hope.  
  
"I thank you," the Prince said, standing up and turning to leave.  
  
Cyle grinned. Victory! "I will have the treaty written up by evening. Tomorrow morning, we will officially be allies." The King turned to a Messenger boy standing behind. "Let word pass that another feast will take place! The grandest feast that Hyrule has ever seen!"  
  
Prince Chizan turned back. "You misunderstand me, Cyle Narawan of no Heroic Deed," he said. "There will be no treaty between us and you."


	8. Plots & Plans

**Chapter Seven**

**Plots and Plans**  
  
"She was so beautiful. I so wish you had seen her."  
  
Fran Marcaster strode quickly down the near deserted streets of Lon Lon Village, his daughter skipping lightly beside him. The early morning sun crept over the wooden huts and taverns, not yet giving off enough heat to dispel the biting chill. Tightening his wolfskin coat, Fran passed the street sweepers dusting down shop entrances. He gave short, curt nods to those early risers who recognised him as they prepared their businesses for the day ahead. Fran didn't have time to stop and chat.  
  
"The Queen? It was really her?" he asked, turning to his daughter. Dressed in a light brown dress that complemented her darkish hair, Tessa Marcaster broke into a wide grin that made Fran's heart ache. She looked so much like her mother that he sometimes had to catch himself from calling her by his dead wife's name. Myra still dominated his life even though she'd been gone eight summers now. He would talk to her when he was worried or needed company, whispering silently to thin air, often before he fell asleep. When he was annoyed with Tessa he would rant about his wife's shortcomings, though that would usually keep him up all night in guilty anguish.  
  
"Of course, Papa," she said, her face still soft from her eighteen summers of age. She sighed. "In a pretty pink dress. No one could take their eyes off of her. And then she welcomed us all to the castle, smiling so beautifully that we all just wanted to fall in love with her." She paused. "I wish I were as grand as her."  
  
Fran stopped short, spun on his heels, and took his daughter's hand in his own. It was icy cold, her skin was thick and calloused It hurt Fran to see how much his daughter had to work and suffer just so that they could get by. He was no slouch himself - he was a hunter, tracking animals by night, then feasting on the meat by day and selling the skins to the weavers in his small shop. Tessa, though, spent each day at Old Nan's cheerily grinding corn and making bread. Old Nan's trade had shot up as a result. People would only buy bread from the spinster just so they could see Tessa's smile, forgetting their worries as they chatted to her. She always managed to make people feel better. The few extra rupees she earned helped them both pay for extra food, clothes and the fee for their house. The wealth that had engulfed Hyrule had missed Fran. That stung him, not because he was bitter, but because his daughter deserved much better.  
  
"Tessa," he said, looking into her face. "You are far more grand and beautiful then any Queen Hyrule could produce."  
  
Rose flushed into her cheeks, her eyes dropping downwards with a shy glance. Fran remembered seeing that blush when she had had to stitch Link's wounds after he had dragged the Hero of Time to his house. Typically Fran was useless with a thread, and he had let Tessa tend to the young man's wounds. Myra would have scolded him had she been there. Fran had been careful though to only limit her to the wounds on his chest, arms and face. Thankfully, Link had not been too seriously wounded anywhere below that.  
  
Link. Fran had fretted over the Hero's predicament so much that he had completely failed to notice the gossip sweeping around the town. Everyone had been talking about the Queen's sudden reappearance. Tessa had probably told him once already, but he hadn't heard.  
  
Still hand in hand they walked towards the Guardhouse where Link was being held. Tessa gazed in interest at some of the elaborate and brightly coloured pottery displayed in some of the newly opened shops as Fran mulled over what the Hero had told him.  
  
He had no reason to disbelieve Link's tale, yet he had had a very hard time digesting the fact that the King was a cold-blooded murderer. He knew Talon, the Ranch Owner, only in passing. Fran knew that he had lost a daughter, and he could sympathise with that. He admired the man's strength - he himself would not have been able to keep on going if Tessa died. The rotund man never talked about how Malon had died. Why had King Cyle done such a thing?  
  
But Fran did not know him and Link clearly did. Fran only knew what was spread by the Royal Messengers that came calling every week, singing the King's praises in the village square. Fran was too old and too intelligent to be fooled by words like that. Besides, the man himself seemed to have a hard edge that drove people to express their love for the Royals only through the Queen. Though most begrudgingly acknowledged the wealth that had come to them since Cyle had been in power, secretly people hoped that it had really been Zelda who had blessed them with this gift. Still. A murderer?  
  
They walked into the Guardhouse, welcoming the warmth of the building. One of the constables looked up, but seeing after who it was, he just flicked his hand in the direction of Link's cell. Fran had become a regular visitor to the House over the past few days.  
  
The House was populated by local Lon Lon officer, not Royal Guards. The officers had recognised Link and had shooed him into the cell before anyone else could intervene. For some reason, Talon had not given away Link's identity, though he did check in everyday to ask when 'justice would be served'. They had anguished over locking up their Hero, and had decided to send a letter to the castle to ask for advice. Talon had agreed to wait until the reply came. Fran had managed to convince the officers to have the letter sent directly to the Queen. He didn' know how much that would help, but he knew it would be a lot better than having His Majesty bear down on the village.  
  
"Fran!" Link's voice was warm and strong. Fran had noticed that, despite his surroundings, Link had lost a lot of tension. He smiled more easily now and he carried himself in a more relaxed manner. Perhaps opening the past to him had let Link unburden himself. Fran wondered why Link had chosen him of all people to be the recipient of his story, but decided that perhaps circumstances had given the Hero no choice.  
  
"Link," Fran smiled. "How are you?"  
  
The Hero of Time walked up to the cold steel bars, smiling. "Oh, you know. It's just like living in a palace. Good food, good company." He winked as one of the guards scowled. "I heartily recommend it."  
  
"Hello, Link," Tessa grinned. "I brought you some food." She lifted a small, carefully wrapped package from her basket, instantly flooding the room with the smell of warm, sweet bread. She poked it through the space in the bars as the guards pretended not to notice. Their respect for the Hero of Time meant that they let him have a few small liberties.  
  
Link grinned back. "Ah, the lovely Tessa." She blushed as he bowed, melodramatically sweeping his arm. He took the package and thanked her quietly. "Old Fran dragged you out in the cold, did he?" He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "I think ... that your father may have been a wee bit afraid of some lingering Stalfos and he knew that they would flee from the radiance of your face."  
  
The radiance of her face? Fran narrowed his eyes as Tessa giggled. He decided that he preferred Link when he was a little bit less relaxed. This was not good, though. He didn't want Tessa to get too attached to the Hero of Time. There would be nothing but pain and heartache down that path.  
  
Perhaps noticing the look on his face, Link turned back to him, a little bit more serious. "Any news from the castle?"  
  
"No, not yet." Fran hadn't told him that the letter was not going to the King. Somehow he felt that Link would not appreciate it. "I'm sorry, Link."  
  
"Then I must find another way out of here," Link said, his voice down to a whisper. "I have to find my friend."  
  
"The woman?" Fran said, remembering that Link had mentioned her the day he had awoken. He caught Tessa flinching at the mention of Link's friend and did not like it one bit.  
  
"She's taken an oath of allegiance with me." Interesting. Link now had an apprentice? "It is my responsibility to make sure she is safe."  
  
"I understand," said Fran, idly scratching at the steel. "But what can we do?"  
  
Link stepped away from the bars, lightly kicking at the dustballs by his feet. "Let me talk to Talon …"  
  
"Link", Fran said, the blunt edge of a warning clear in his voice.  
  
"He'll see sense! If I just explained ..."  
  
"Link!" The sharpness in his tone silenced the Hero. "He won't see sense." Fran cocked his head slightly towards his own daughter. "Trust me. He won't."  
  
Link rested his head against the bars and sighed. "Then I am at the mercy of the King," he said, bitterness wrapping itself around his words.

2  
  
Zayna couldn't remember how long she had been hanging to the wall of this dimly lit, damp prison. Arms outstretched, she was pinned to the stone by iron clasps. She heard rats squeaking, scurrying about around her feet. Food was a few crumbs sprinkled onto her lips every few ... hours? Days? She didn't know. It was hard to determine the passage of time when the light only changed from dim to dimmer. Water was splashed onto her face occasionally. It trickled down, and sometimes she managed to catch a few drops in her mouth.  
  
She knew where she was, though. Chalance Vance's dungeons were buried deep beneath the Temple of Time. The sorcerer himself now made his residence in the sacred building, his presence a poison to the subtle otherworldly forces that bind Hyrule.  
  
"Key." She heard his voice and felt his gaze. Zayna kept her eyes closed, feigning sleep. "Key, look at me."  
  
Slowly, she opened her eyes, raising her head to meet Chalance Vance's emotionless stare. "Do not call me that," she whispered, her voice weak and tinny.  
  
"Why not, Key?" Vance asked. "It is what you are. It is why you were born."  
  
"I am a person," she said, trying to give her voice some strength. "I am no one's tool."  
  
There was silence. Zayna let her eyes close, thinking that the sorcerer had left. His voice broke through her mistake.  
  
"I beg to differ. You are the most powerful creature in this world." He stopped. She heard his voice from one ear to the other and she realised that he was walking from side to side. "And now you are under my control. So ... if you are the most powerful, what does that make me?"  
  
Zayna could not resist. "An impotent coward."  
  
She sensed the stare again, this time feeling the heat of his hatred and fury. "You would be advised not to take me lightly," he said.  
  
She looked up again, this time with narrowed eyes. "Nor should you underestimate me, Chalance Vance."  
  
Again there was silence. "I do not," he said simply.  
  
"There is the other."  
  
First, she thought that Vance had been overcome with a coughing fit. Then she realised that he was laughing.  
  
"No," he said. "We have taken care of the other. A long time ago."  
  
"You will not be able to make me do what you want."  
  
"Willingly or unwillingly, my dear, you will do my bidding."  
  
"What of the King? Surely he wants a piece of the pie?"  
  
"The King is a stupid fool." Zayna was surprised by the anger in his voice. "It pleases me to let him be led to his doom. When the time comes, it will be me and only me who reaps the benefit."  
  
She didn't reply for a moment. A question gnawed at her from within, but for some reason she feared the answer. Taking a deep, painful breath, she summoned the courage to ask, "What of Link? What of the Hero of Time?"  
  
Zayna heard Vance shuffle, seemingly considering his answer. He walked up to the energy bars that held her captive and peered at her. Zayna looked back, her heart skipping in anxiety. His answer chilled her soul.  
  
"Why, the Hero of Time is dead."

3  
  
Strange. Zelda watched the red and blue clad soldiers of the Hyrulian Army practice manoeuvres in the castle courtyard, their blades glistening in the noonday sun. Usually there would be only fifty or so troops going through the daily routine and over the last day or so that number had swelled to over two hundred. She had also noticed other packs of soldiers leaving the castle almost every hour now, both during the day and night. Some she saw were headed to the armoury not too far from the castle where the long disused machines of war gathered dust and rot. She wondered whether this was a public display of strength just to cow the Freelander Prince.  
  
"We are honoured that you have granted us yet another audience." Zelda turned from the window to face Prince Chizan, sitting at the polished wooden table of the castle's conference room. Flanked by his guards, the Queen was once again struck by the beauty of his appearance.  
  
Tyron had managed to arrange this meeting, their third of the day, while Cyle took a trip to Gerudo Valley to sort out a trade dispute there. Normally, the King would have considered something as trivial as that beneath him, but the Gerudo had asked for him specifically. Zelda silently gave thanks to Nabooru for arranging the diversion. The Gerudo had been reluctant to stage the deception, but had given in due to their friendship with the Queen. However, they had made it clear that they would stay neutral in whatever was to come in the future.  
  
"It is we that are honoured," Tyron answered on her behalf. Even he looked a little in awe. "It has been so long since Hylians and Freelanders have met like this."  
  
"Nay," the Prince answered. "Today I am in illustrious company. You are well known to us, Tyron Bellisare and the Queen," he turned to regard her with a smile, "Her exploits against the Dark Lord are celebrated throughout our land. She is a worthy ruler to this nation of yours."  
  
Zelda blushed slightly, briefly wondering what Tyron had done to make himself so infamous with the Freelanders. "You are too kind, Your Highness," she said, sitting down at the head of the table. Sunlight poured through the windows, filling the room with lazy heat. She watched particles of dust floating in the warm air.  
  
"The Queen wishes that ... ah, our two nations can forge a bond of friendship," Tyron said. Their first two meetings had just been pleasant small talk, comparing cultures and countries. Now it was time to bring things to a head.  
  
Chizan's eyes flickered. "A friendship between the Emirate and Hyrule ... or a pact between her and myself?"  
  
Tyron moved to speak, but Zelda cut him off. "You are wise, Your Highness. There would, of course, be no formal terms except ... that you would aid me when I needed it and I would aid you whenever you needed it." She felt a bit embarrassed. Looking at the heavily armoured Freelanders, she knew that they did not need her help for anything.  
  
The Prince gazed at her with his usual serene expression, considering his words. "It would be a great … honour to be allied to one such as yourself, Queen Zelda. There would be much rejoicing in Freelander lands. But …" he chewed on his cheek as Zelda braced herself. "We have not interfered in the affairs of your land for many eons and we see no reason to do so now."  
  
Zelda's heart sank as the Prince stood up. He moved to the window and peered out, watching the soldiers, a thoughtful expression clouding his golden face. "I am not comfortable about what is happening in Hyrule. My fear is that whatever is started here will spread to the whole world."  
  
The Queen decided to be frank. "The more allies I have, the less Cyle can do. Surely, you can see that?"  
  
"The King is a dangerous man. I have observed him the past few days. He is no Hero," Chizan said. "His Advisor ... well, let us just say that power should not be given to men like them. They are evil."  
  
Something tugged at Zelda, hearing her husband be described in such a way. She dismissed it from her mind. The time for sentiment was long past. Still, she was surprised to hear Link's voice echo in her head, 'You're making a mistake.'  
  
The Prince turned to Tyron. "How do you see this? I think you fear more than you let on."  
  
"I do," Tyron said. Zelda was slightly confused. "But what you are implying is dangerous. Who would do it and on what pretext?"  
  
"A pre-emptive strike. For the good of the people," the Prince said, before turning back to the Queen. "Her Majesty can do the task. She has already set it into motion, though she realises it not. She has one Heroic Deed ... another is of no harm."  
  
Zelda shook her head. What was he talking about? "Wait, wait, _wait_. What do you mean?" Her eyes darted from one man to the other. "Pre emptive strike?"  
  
The two men glanced at each other, before Tyron spoke, his eyes sad, but full of affection. "The Prince is trying to say that," he said slowly, "the King must be removed. Permanently."

4  
  
Link tried to work out how long he'd been cooped up in this cell. It must be close to a week now. He must be the only prisoner to have ever received preferential treatment. The guards seemed to be a bit uncomfortable with him being locked up, and so they had tried to make his stay as pleasing as possible, giving him extra food in addition to the prison slop and letting Fran and Tessa visit as much as they wanted.  
  
At first, the guards had not spoken to him, but over time one or two said a few words, before some of the braver ones asked about his adventures in the past. Pretty soon, they had a nightly ritual where the guards would huddle around Link's cell, clutching their stained, wooden mugs, while he told them stories in a hushed voice. Link had taken comfort in the small companionship.  
  
And yet, it didn't ease his frustration. He was now split in many different directions. He was no closer to finding out what had happened at the Melody Forest Village, he had yet to meet with the Gorons, and the Demon Riders had taken Zayna to Triforce knows where. He wondered if Darunia and Zayna were even still alive. Why was Zayna so important to creatures as foul as the Riders? Link slapped the bars, filling the Guardhouse with a metallic echo. And he was still stuck in here with no idea how to get out! He hoped that Cyle would release him, simply out of morbid curiosity. Another part of him realised that the King may just let him rot here. He could do nothing until the reply came from the castle.  
  
Talon had surprised him one day with a visit. Link's mouth had dried, and all the speeches that he'd elaborately worked out in his head had melted away. Talon had peered through the bars, fixing him with a stare that had frightened Link more than any encounter with Ganon could have. The man had not said a single word. He had stared, spun on his heels and left, leaving Link to let out a sigh he hadn't even realised he was keeping in.  
  
Suddenly he saw a commotion at the entrance of the Guardhouse, his heart trembling in hope as his eyes found the newly-arrived Royal Messenger. Link caught a few words before seeing the Lon Lon officer point in the direction of his cell. Link got up and held onto the bars as the Messenger marched up to him.  
  
"Link, Hero of Time," the Messenger said, his inflected royal voice sounding strange after all this time just listening to local Lon Lon accents.  
  
"Yes," Link replied.  
  
"I have here an order for your release."  
  
Link didn't reply, waiting for the catch he knew was surely there.  
  
"There is a condition though," the Messenger continued.  
  
"Name it."  
  
"You will only be released if you agree to be taken directly to the castle itself."  
  
"And who has summoned me there?" asked Link, wondering why Cyle would want to see him after all these summers. The King probably wanted to humiliate him further, and Link momentarily wondered whether he shouldn't just stay in the cell.  
  
The Messenger cocked an eyebrow, then proclaimed: "Her Majesty, the Queen."


	9. A Pre Emptive Strike

**Chapter 8**

**A Pre-emptive Strike**

"Your Highness"

"Advisor. Brief me."

"Our allies are ready. They wish to see proof, though."

"They will see it soon enough. Vance, I must admit. This is one of your better plans. I thank you for sharing it with me."

"No I thank you, Your Highness. It had to be modified a little to accommodate the Freelander. But this way we kill two cuccos with the same Deku nut."

"Have you found the girl?"

"Almost, Your Highness, almost. Patience."

"This is a dangerous game we play, Vance. We cannot stretch ourselves too thin. Now we attack on two fronts."

"We are prepared. Nothing will deny you what you seek."

"What of the Morolaks?"

"Dealt with, sire. The Duke and Duchess are dead."

"Excellent. We will tell the Morolaks that there was a storm or some such tale. They will send new emissaries. This time no one will interfere with the treaty."

"Your Highness, after tonight Zelda and Chizan will no longer be a problem."

2

"Link is coming _here_?"

Cyle's angry voice rang out from the Royal bedroom. Zelda watched him, her gaze firm and unwavering. He paced around the room, fists clenching and unclenching. His steps were so hard that he left footprints in the dark blue carpet. The scent of perfume hung in the air. Zelda spent a lot of her free time in this room.

"I have summoned him," she said, sitting on the edge of the bed, her hands folded on her lap. The bed was far too big, especially now that it was occupied only by herself. Cyle slept in his study. She knew that he wouldn't like the idea of Link's return, but now she was beyond caring. Link was coming and it would do her good to see a familiar face. She felt a flicker of doubt. That is, if he still wanted to talk to her.

"No, no, no, no, _no_," the King said, shaking his head with each word. "Unsummon him."

"Don't be absurd." She was a little taken back by the heat of his response. They had spoken little about the Hero during their time together. She still couldn't understand why Cyle hated him so. "He is already on his way."

Cyle stopped abruptly, spinning around to look at her, his face contorted in anger. "How dare you?" he growled. "How dare you bring him here without first consulting me?"

Zelda felt her own face burn in indignation. She rose from the bed, hands on her hips. "I am the Queen of Hyrule. I can keep my own counsel on whom I shall summon to _my_ castle."

"Queen of Hyrule," he said, the acid bite of sarcasm in his voice. He rolled his eyes. "You are nothing but an ornament, brought out to appease the dull-minded masses."

"_You_ were nothing," she said hotly, eyes narrowed and pointing her finger. "Without _me." _

Cyle seethed at the truth of the words.

"Where would all your high and mighty friends be, Cyle … where would all your wealth be … where would your power be … had you not married _me?"_

The muscles in his jaw spasmed as he bit back a retort. He closed his eyes, then said with a sigh. "Zelda, Zelda, Zelda." He smiled. "Forgive me, my dear. I am under … so much stress. The talks with the Freelanders go unsuccessfully. I did not mean to be so sharp." He stepped up to her and put his hands on her arms.

The Queen wasn't fooled. She knew her husband well, knew that he thought his smile could help him out of any situation. Even help him get away with murder. She froze, blinking. Where had that last thought come from?

He kissed her lightly on the forehead. "Am I forgiven?" Again, that smile. Zelda was familiar enough with it to be able to see it for the deception that it was. In this case, familiarity bred more than contempt, it created outright hatred. As she looked up at him, she hoped he wouldn't see that loathing reflected in her eyes.

She wriggled out of his grasp, not bothering to even reply, and went to her mirror, smoothing her hair down and pretending to check her face. She would not cry. She _would not_ give him the satisfaction.

Cyle watched her as she sniffed away tears. "Tonight there is a feast," he said.

Another one! Did he think that Chizan would be impressed with food? She turned to give him her opinion, but he held up a hand saying, "You do not have to attend. It is for men only."

Zelda paused. Somehow she didn't like the sound of that. "Who has been invited?" she asked.

The King picked up an ornament from her dresser. It was a tiny replica of Death Mountain, encased in a glittering crystal. As he examined it, the Queen remembered that it had been a gift from Darunia on her wedding day. "Representatives from four of the nations that have signed the treaty. Plus, Elders from the villages of Hyrule."

"This sounds important. I should be there. What is to be discussed?"

"No, nothing important," he said. Zelda noticed that he had turned away from her. "Just a little celebration of our alliances. Men having a drink and gorging themselves." He turned back, smiling. "You won't like it. Just rest tonight."

She heard the false tone of concern in his voice and ignored it. Instead she asked softly, "Cyle … why do you hate Link?"

The King walked slowly around the bed. Laid there was the purple gown that he had spent thousands of rupees on as a gift. He had called in the best seamstresses from all over the globe, and they had spent a month working on it. She had accepted it awkwardly. On one hand, she thought it a terrible waste of money and on the other hand she had been slightly touched by this rare display of affection. She'd been planning to wear it this day. Cyle took the fabric in his fingers and rubbed it slowly.

"Is it because of what he said about Malon?" Zelda continued when he did not reply. "I thought you said you had forgiven him for his accusation. That you understood that anger had clouded his memories."

The Queen noticed a slight frown flicker over his features at the mention of Malon. "No," he said. "Not because of the farmgirl."

"Then why?" Her voice was gentle.

Cyle walked to the door, ready to leave. He paused to look at her, his eyes sad, his mouth only half smiling. For a heartbeat, she remembered why she had been so taken with him all those summers ago.

"Because you still love him."

3

"She suspects nothing, Your Highness?"

"No, I don't think so, Vance. This … this is leaving a bad taste in my mouth."

"Sire, now is not the time for weakness. Think of what you are about to gain."

"Is it really enough? Is this nothing more than a fool's quest? What am I giving up?"

"Sire! You have spent your entire life building for this. The gains you will receive immensely outweigh anything you will lose. Sacrifices have to made for things truly worth having."

"Sacrifices."

"Yes. When we find the girl and put everything into motion, you will be remembered for eternity. Not just in Hyrule. Not just on this world. Nay, in all the worlds!"

"Yes…yes. You are right. The beginning of the end starts tonight."

4

Zelda was awoke from her nightmare to the sound of someone thudding on her door. Her eyes adjusted to the inky darkness as she recalled her dream. Misshapen creatures with hissing voices and blood stained axes had swarmed through Hyrule, cutting down all in their path. Screams echoed through the land, but most unsettling of all was the low, constant murmur of despair that pervaded her country. She was surprised that she no longer woke up screaming.

The thudding came again, more insistent this time. "I am coming," Zelda said, still managing to recall her practised royal voice. As she slipped out of bed, blinking away the tiredness in eyes, she remembered that there were other dreams that disturbed her a lot more than her most recent one. Dreams of her plunging a knife into her husband's heart, then twisting the hilt. The dream was so vivid that she would wake trying to wipe the blood off of her hands. Curse Tyron and Chizan! How could what they plotted be considered a 'Heroic Deed'? The Queen wondered why the Freelanders were still here. The Prince had rejected both her and Cyle.

She heard Mina snoring lightly nearby, surprised that her Advisor had not awoken, too. There was little time to light a torch and find her dressing gown, so she tiptoed over the cold floor to open the door a little way.

"Yes, what is it?" she asked. Before her stood a Royal Messenger, his face flushed red with panic, his eyes darting this way and that.

"It is Prince Chizan! So terrible … maybe he's hurt. He kept asking for you. It is urgent!" he breathed quickly.

Her heart lurched, forgetting the irritation she had felt towards the Freelander only a moment ago. "Where is he?"

"The conference room, Your Majesty."

Wide awake now, she strode out of her room, still in her nightclothes. There was no time for her to worry about modesty especially if a friend was hurt. Running down the stairs, a small thought nagged at her. Why had she never seen that particular Messenger before?

The conference room was dark when she reached it. Puzzled, she noticed that the Messenger had not followed her in. The room had a lot of retractable walls that were used when more space was needed. Had Chizan stumbled into one of those walls and hurt himself? Strange…there were no lit torches nearby that she could use. She shuffled further into the room, feeling apprehensive. The faint moonlight trickling in through the windows revealed little. She hugged herself, feeling the cold more in her soul than in the air. Something wasn't right. She caught the sound of boots scuffing on the floor. "Prince Chizan…?" she called, her voice quiet.

"Your Majesty..?" His voice was faint.

Suddenly she felt something or someone breeze past her, and she was momentarily spun around, disorientating her. She was shoved to the ground, gasping. A moment later someone toppled on top of her with a grunt, making her lose her breath once again, and sending sharp pains up and down her back.

Zelda heard the deep rumble of a wall opening, bathing the conference room with light. She looked up to see Chizan's purple eyes directly above her, his golden features creased in confusion. In the new opening stood Cyle, the representatives of the four signed nations and the Village Elders, their faces grim. She also noticed some villagers, both men _and_ women.

Chizan was still atop of her, their arms and legs entwined. They scrambled to their feet as she hissed in a whisper, "What's happening?"

"I received a message," he said quickly. "It said you were hurt and …"

"Silence, Freelander," Cyle said. There was a tense moment of silence before he turned to the other people, his face sagging with sadness. "You see? You did not believe me, my friends." His voice was quiet, yet his tone acidic. "But, behold … the sad truth. Your Queen is being unfaithful to me."

The colour drained from Zelda's face as the realisation hit her. How must it have looked to these people, discovering Chizan on top of her in the dark? That she was still in her nightclothes and looking flustered must have added extra spice to the sauce.

"It certainly seems that way," the Calatian representative, a tall, muscular man, said. Zelda knew that marriage was sacred, one of the few things that all the nations agreed upon. Some would give their children and grandchildren to Ganon himself than witness a breaking of a marriage through infidelity or annulment. She herself shared that view, though she had pondered annulment a lot over the last few months. But only for the sake of her people. Now it looked like the decision had been taken out of her hands.

There were still expressions of doubt on some of the guests. Cyle noticed and said, "I know … I know. I did not want to believe it either. I had suspicions that she had done this before with other men, but I was willing to overlook it, hoping I was mistaken. What do you think she was doing, hidden away for two summers? A very strange thing for a Queen to do … unless she was hiding something!" He let the accusation sink in for a moment before continuing, "They are very clever these two, showing one face to the public while keeping their love hidden in private, meeting here every night for whatever sick pursuits took their fancy."

Zelda's head swam and tears poured down her face. She had embarrassed him during the Morolak feast, reminding him of how much the people loved her. And now he'd used that as a weapon. He had turned the people against her. She fumed inwardly, fixing Cyle with a dirty look. Her eyes were hard.

"Cyle, you bastard."

Some of the women hissed at the curse. "Be silent, you harlot," one of them spat.

Now Zelda realised why the villagers were here. They would no doubt go back home and tell all about the foul-tongued Queen caught in the arms of her 'lover'. She knew that any denial she made now would not be taken seriously.

Yet, she had to try. He would not win this way. "My people," she said, her voice faltering. What could she possibly say that would convince them?

Chizan, still looking serene, stepped forward, putting a hand on her arm. A few of the guests raised their eyebrows at this, but most waited patiently for the Freelander to speak. The Prince raised his arms, as if he were surrendering. "Look at me, friends," he said. "I am still fully clothed. We were in the dark, we slipped. This is nothing more than a misunderstanding."

Again, frowns of doubt crossed some people's faces. One or two started to murmur.

"And I wonder how many of those clothes would still be on you if we had opened the wall a few moments later," Cyle said, his sharp voice silencing the guests. "You were in the dark, you say? Highly suspicious I think."

"Cyle Narawan of No Heroic Deed," the Prince said, his own voice still calm. "You are without honour."

Cyle laughed. "You dare speak to me of honour? When you were doing _this_ to my…my…" Cyle choked in mock grief, resting his head on the tips of his fingers. Some of the men patted him on the shoulder, while the villagers looked at him sympathetically.

Zelda noticed that her husband had not once met her gaze yet. "Cyle," she said, trying to keep her voice firm. "Look at me. Look me in the eyes."

The King kept his eyes on Chizan. "I refuse to look at you, woman," he said, his tone haughty and disdainful. "You have betrayed me." A pause. "This marriage is annulled."

There were some sharp gasps. One of the Elders carefully said, "Your Highness. Perhaps this is a little rash. She is but a woman and women make mistakes. And surely it is for the courts to judge…"

"I am the King and I need no court to judge for me," he replied. "For any other woman this may have been forgivable. But not for a Queen. Not only has she betrayed and deceived me, but she has betrayed and deceived all of _you,_ too."

There were small nods of agreement and a few sighs as if people had just realised the truth of the King's words. Zelda looked around the room, her eyes wide in disbelief. Every person she laid eyes on quickly looked away, either staring at the floor or glancing at Cyle. With a choking feeling of despair, she knew she had lost.

"You have five days to leave Hyrule," Cyle said to Chizan. "Take the woman with you. If anyone finds you after five days, they will be permitted to kill you both. Go back to your country, Freelander and prepare your people for my wrath."

"Speak not in riddles, Cyle Narawan of No Heroic Deed or honour," the Prince said. "What are you trying to imply?"

"I thought it was obvious," the King said, his voice oozing with self-satisfied smugness. "An insult like this cannot go unpunished. On behalf of Hyrule and her allies," he said staring around the room, his gaze lingering on each of the four representatives who each gave him a tiny nod in return. "This is a declaration of war."


	10. Travel Plans

**Chapter Nine**

**Travel Plans**

The Gate towered over Zayna like some horrific beast blotting out the horizon. Ancient and terrible, the rusted doorway heaved in and out with deep, booming breaths. Lightening flashed and thunder rolled, echoing across the blood-drenched sky. Things flew past her head: A crackling ball of blue energy. A disembodied head, cackling maniacally. A small child, talking to herself.

With a cavernous sigh, the Gate rippled and a tiny part of it flowed off like liquid. The liquid twisted one way then the other as if it were trying shape itself into a solid form. Hair sprouted from the top of the liquid like a dozen snakes escaping from a basket. Eyes, ears and a mouth formed. From the mouth a forked tongue darted in and out. It had taken the shape of her mother's head.

"_Ssssssssooooooooo_," it said, its voice split and amplified a million times over. It resonated through Zayna's head. "_Youuu have finallllyyyyy commmmmee, Keeeeeyyyy." _

Zayna threw back her head to let out a scream, but smothering black liquid poured into her mouth, gagging her.

Suddenly the Gate jerked. A tiny opening appeared, from where she could hear millions upon millions of voices moan in pain. A grey, clawed hand slowly appeared from the crack. Ever so slowly, it made its way towards her, its yellowing nails sharp. She retched as she felt the fingers close around her throat.

"_Opennnnnnnn_," a voice sighed. "_Opeeeeeeeennnnnnnn_."

Zayna awoke with a start, heaving. Her eyes focused to see the black, unfeeling eyes of a rat staring at her while hanging onto her face. With a disgusted snarl, she jerked her head violently making the rat spin into the air, squealing.

She heard a quiet chuckle and her head started to pound.

"Not enjoying the company?" Chalance Vance said from outside the cell.

"Well," said Zayna. "If I knew you were going to put me in with your relatives I would have prepared something. Who's that then," she cocked her head towards the rat she had just knocked off. "Great Uncle Vancey?"

The sorcerer snarled. For a second, she saw the energy bars that penned her in flicker ever so slightly.

"Oh, and that one," she said, pointing down with her nose at a bloated, jet black rodent. "That must be your mother."

Despite her words, she felt exhausted, her stomach gnawing at her with hunger. Her body was so stiff it felt like tar coated lead. Worse was the burden of defeat her spirit carried. She had sought out the Hero of Time because she knew he, and only he, could help her out her predicament. And now he was dead.

Her mouth tasted sour. How would he have reacted had she told him the whole story from the very beginning?

"I have decided," Vance said, pulling her out of her thoughts. "To inform the King of your capture."

"Why, thank you," Zayna said, her sarcasm heavy. "I'm so honoured."

The sorcerer ignored her. "The path is dangerous," he said. "War is being waged. I will need his help to get you where you need to go."

War? With whom? How long had she been imprisoned? Weeks? Months? Had the outside world changed so dramatically since her capture?

"Could this be?" she asked with a sneer. "The mighty Chalance Vance needing someone's help?"

He growled in anger and Zayna noticed that, once again, the energy bars had thinned in response to his outburst. Something stirred in her heart and she locked the fact away as her mind started working on a plan.

"Be prepared," he hissed. "For travel."

Zayna raised an eyebrow. "It is a little difficult to prepare for anything while I am chained to a wall. Even your miniscule brain can see that."

Again, the sorcerer flared and again the bars dimmed. This was too good to be true.

She watched as Vance pondered his options. His body straightened and she knew that he had come to some sort of decision. With a wave of his hand the iron clasps around her wrists and ankles opened and she fell into the shallow, filthy water below. Rats scattered in panic.

Pain vibrated through Zayna's body as her muscles tried to compensate for being unused for such a long time.

"You will get a few supplies," he said. "Get yourself ready."

Zayna looked up, her face dripping. The water smelt of sweat and waste. "Where are we going?" she asked, but she knew the answer already. She just had to hear it. Just to know that her worst nightmare was truly becoming realised.

"Why," Vance replied, grinning as he feigned sweetness. "To the Gate, of course."

2

A storm was approaching. Link, rocking from side to side in Epona's saddle, saw the dark, angry clouds drift over Hyrule Field. Flanking him were two Royal Guards and the Messenger. Seated behind him on his horse was Chitz the Imp, laughing away maniacally whilst the guards gave him irritated glances.

Link felt a lot better. He had new clothes and his familiar supplies were, once again, strapped to his back. Shield, bow and boomerang – he couldn't ask for anything more. At his waist, trembling slightly as the breeze caught them, were his hookshot and sword. He felt a lot better, but he didn't feel content. In the distance he saw Hyrule Tower stretching to the sky and he could faintly catch the sharp glint reflected from the windows of the castle.

Thinking of the castle made him feel sick and apprehensive. Yet, there was also the slight thrill of anticipation. His heart felt like a leaf battered one way and the other by a strong wind. He wanted to see Zelda. He did not want to see Zelda. He wanted to see Zelda. He did not want to see Zelda.

Link shook his head and thought of Fran instead. The hunter had been delighted when news of Link's release had reached him. Tessa had been pleased too, though she had seemed a little distracted. Talon hadn't been told and Link wondered how the Ranch Owner would react when he discovered him gone. The two other hunters that had found Link in the forest had joined Fran and his daughter as he left for the castle. Fran had made him promise to come back and visit as soon as he was done meeting with the Queen. In a sudden gesture, Tessa had made Chitz come along too; to 'make sure' that Link would come back. The Hero of Time laughed quietly.

"Haha … what's so funny Hero boy? Haha" Chitz said from behind him.

Link caught one of the Guards gritting his teeth in frustration and stifled a laugh. The Guards had not been too taken with the Imp. One night they had angrily chased him around the fire 'to cut out his cursed giggling tongue.' Link smiled again.

"You are, my friend."

"Oh? Haha … yes, yes," Chitz sniffed. "I always fancied myself as a comedian … haha!" He paused, thinking. "Though I'm not as funny as my cousin Pimp. He used to travel around the country spreading his tales of mirth. Haha. In fact, maidens used to fall in love with him just because of his jokes! Haha."

Link cocked an eyebrow. "Oh, really? I suppose he must have…" He frowned as the words sank in. "Pimp…the Imp?"

The Hero of Time sighed as Chitz howled in laughter. "Got you! Haha! Got you good!"

Link saw one of the Guards idly tap his fingers on the hilt of his sword. The expression on his face told Link that Chitz was one wrong word away from having his neck snapped.

"So, Chitz," said Link, trying to divert attention. "Ever been to the castle?"

"No. Haha," Chitz replied. "The King doesn't like Imps!"

"Is that so?" Link said quietly.

One of the Guards came to a sudden stop, holding up a hand. "Hold!"

The group waited. A gust of wind threw droplets of cold rain into their faces. Not too far ahead they saw a trio of riders galloping towards them. Slowly, their features came into focus and the group saw that the riders were crimson clad Hylian soldiers.

In a curious motion, the lead soldier drew his sword as he trotted to a halt. "What is your business?"

Lomi, one of the Guards accompanying Link, replied, "Captain, sir. We are taking the Hero of Time to the castle."

The Captain's eyes narrowed in suspicion as he looked at Link. "Who gave this order?"

"Why, the Queen, sir."

At the mention of Zelda's title, the other two riders drew their weapons. All three of them slip off their horses.

Link felt tense at the sight of the weapons. Not because of the peculiarity of their reaction to the Queen, though that did mildly surprise him. No, his apprehension came from memories of his defeat at the hands of the Demon Riders. Doubt clutched at his heart. Had the five summers he had spent away from adventuring dulled his senses? Did he still have what it took to get the job done?

Lomi gave a panicked glanced towards his fellow Guard. He looked back to the Captain, his expression alarmed. "I don't understand, sir…"

"You are with the Queen?" the Captain asked, his voice hard.

Link slipped off Epona and whispered to Chitz to go run and hide.

Lomi, the other Guard and the Messenger all disembarked too.

"I said," spat the Captain. "Are you with the Queen?"

"Well," Lomi answered, confusion and fear making his voice crack. "Yes, of course … aren't we all?"

The threesome shifted their swords into an en guard position. The Captain pointed his sword directly at Link. "Then prepare to die."

Link's face hardened in determination. No. This time there would be no defeat. He drew his weapon.

3

"I need an army."

Zelda pulled on the black gloves as Prince Chizan watched her. Her whole outfit – pants, shirt, cloak and hood – was jet black. She had dressed before letting Chizan into her chamber, the gloves being the last thing to be put on. Briefly, she had considered donning her old Shiekah disguise that she had worn in her battle against Ganondorf, then decided that it would attract too much attention. That had been in another place and, indeed, an entirely different time. On the table before her were her shield, her bow and her sword. It had been a while since she had had to use them, but she still felt that she was ready.

"The Freelander army will be ready to repulse any attack by the King," Chizan answered.

Zelda shook her head. "No, that's not what I mean. _I_ need an army under _my_ command."

Chizan sighed. "You plan to take back your country by force?" he asked, his voice quiet.

Zelda opened her drawers, pondering over what items she had to take. "How else can I take it back? You said it yourself – Cyle and Chalance Vance are evil. They can not," and here she looked directly at the Freelander. "And they _will not_ be allowed to rule."

She peered back inside the drawers, shuffling useless trinkets around to see if there was anything practical she needed. Her heart ached so much that she had to fight back tears. She was not the type to sit and drown in a swamp of self-pity. In another time, in another place when Ganondorf and raped her land, she had spent many long, lonely years hidden as a Sheikah plotting his downfall, waiting for her Hero. Link had defeated the enemy and she had sent him back in time to relive his life as a child. And yet she, and the whole of the world, had somehow retained their memories of that other timeline. The memories were just as real as their memories in this timeline. Ganon himself was still imprisoned in the Dark Realm even in this reality. In effect, they had all lived two lives. She had always thought that it had been a message, a warning not to repeat history.

Link. There was no time to warn him about what had happened, she thought, sadness colouring her musings. Hopefully, word would reach him before he arrived at the castle and he could make his own escape. She felt a slight shiver of fear as she imagined what Cyle would do to him if he came here.

"I cannot promise you an army," the Prince continued, breaking her thoughts.

"I'm not asking you for anything, Your Highness," she said. "I'm just stating a fact – I need an army."

"This is not the time to discuss this," he said, his tone thoughtful. "When we get back to the Emirate, we will then prepare."

"No," she said quickly. "They will be waiting for us." She paused, noticing the quizzical look on the Prince's face. "I don't know how and I don't know when. Maybe at the bays or maybe when we set sail, but if we try and go back to your country they will pick us off easily."

"Then where…?"

Zelda's hand closed around the cold, star shaped gold pendant that Duchess Toriya had given to her. "We have five days. In that time I need to round up as many allies as I possibly can."

"And after that…?"

"Then we set sail for the Morolak Kingdoms. I have friends there." She frowned a bit, considering. "No. _I_ set sail. You should go home and let your people know of the situation."

"No," he said, his voice calm, but firm. "My two Guards will try and find a passage home that will avoid any possible … ambush. I will accompany you to the Morolak Kingdoms."

Zelda was torn. On one hand, it would be useful to have the Prince with her. On the other hand, it was not his responsibility. "You do not have to come. I can take care of myself."

Before the Prince could answer, the door to her chamber burst open. Zelda flinched, thinking that it may be her ex-husband. Relief flooded through her when she saw the figures of Tyron and Mina. Tyron looked grave and Mina ran up to her before engulfing her in a vicious hug. Tears streamed down her Advisor's face.

"Don't go," she moaned. "Please don't leave me."

Zelda closed her eyes, stroking Mina's hair. "Hush," she said gently. "I cannot stay here, Mina. You know that."

Mina looked at her, a fierce expression lining her face. "Take me with you."

The Queen's eyes brimmed with tears. "No, Mina," she said sadly. "You're better off here. You are safer here." She wished intensely that that was true.

She noticed Tyron out of the corner of her eye. He had a backpack ready and was in travel clothes. She raised an eyebrow. "And where are you going?"

"With you, my dear," he said with a smile. "Where else would I go?"

Zelda shook her head violently. She threw her hands in the air, exasperated. "Has everyone gone insane? None of you should be coming with me. This is my responsibility. I can do this alone."

There was silence for a moment, before Tyron said in a soft voice, "We know you can. But you cannot deny us the right to serve the Queen we love. Our lives are bound to yours."

She felt her jaw tremble as emotion overcame her. "Mina is still not coming," she said with a tone of finality. She held up a hand to still the girl's cry. "It is far too dangerous and you are not ready." She stopped to soften her tone and smile. "I will miss you, though."

Again, her Advisor hugged her, weeping softly. This time Zelda could not hold back the tears and she closed her eyes as they flowed.

Prince Chizan coughed politely. "What is our first destination?"

The Queen looked out the window, as the rain started to pour down, hammering against the glass. The blobs of water congealing there blurred her vision, yet she could still make out most of the better-known landmarks. Her eyes came to rest on Death Mountain and she felt her hand tingle. She didn't need to look down to know that the hand was the one with the markings of the Triforce of Wisdom.

"Let's go visit the Gorons."

4

Lomi gagged as the sword slit his throat, his blood mixing with the rain as he collapsed in the mud.

There was just Link left now against the Captain and one remaining soldier. The other soldier lay face down on the grass, a sword jutting out from his back. Attached to the hilt of that sword was a severed hand.

Link was soaked to the skin, his boots slipping in the soft mud. Water dripped from his hair and rain fell on his weapons with a metallic tap. The Captain thrust his sword, but Link knocked the parry away with his shield, trying to keep his footing. The other soldier kept zipping in and out, nicking Link with small cuts that were more annoying than painful. The Hero of Time was disgusted at his cowardice.

The Captain snarled, baring his teeth. With a cry he swung his sword in an outward arc. Link ducked, feeling the blade sweep through the rain above him. The momentum carried the Captain forward and Link plunged his shield into the man's stomach knocking the wind out of him.

The other soldier moved. Bringing his sword down, he sliced Link's arm. The Hero of Time roared in pain, dropping his shield. He rolled away as another thrust came. Gritting his teeth, Link held his sword in both hands, waving it about to keep them from attacking. He glanced at his arm. Not too deep a cut, but the blood was running down his arm making his grip on his hilt slippery.

Link took in a deep breath to calm himself. He would not lose this.

They circled him like vultures around a carcass. The Captain spat. They kept wary stares on him, meaning they still considered him dangerous. That was good.

Suddenly Link threw his sword up into the air. Shocked, both of them watched it fly.

_Fools_.

The boomerang knocked the soldier out just as his sword began its spinning descent. Catching the blade in one hand, Link plunged it into the Captain's chest. The soldier fell to the ground, a bewildered expression still plastered on his face.

Link let out a sigh of satisfaction. He had won. He pulled his sword free with a grunt, catching his boomerang with his free hand as it made its lazy flight back towards him.

"Bravo! Haha! Bravo!" Chitz came running out from whichever rock he had been hiding behind as Link wiped the blood off of his sword. The Hero tore a strip of fabric from his tunic and tied it tightly around the wound on his arm.

"Where now, Hero? Haha. To the castle?"

Link peered through the gloom towards the castle, his hair now plastered to his face by the rain. Honour demanded that he fulfil his side of the bargain that had caused his release and go and see Zelda. But it was clear from the actions of these soldiers that things had gone awry over at the fortress.

His gaze fell on Death Mountain and abruptly he felt his hand tingle. Lifting it to his face he saw the markings of the Triforce of Courage throb like a beating heart. Putting his sword back in its scabbard he motioned to Chitz to follow him.

"Let's go. I have a promise to keep to an old friend."


	11. Musings on a Mountain

Chapter 10

Link scrambled up the slippery, rock-covered face of Death Mountain with Chitz the Imp happily bouncing from one boulder to another. The air was still cold from the storm, but it felt fresh and clean. Breathing deeply, the Hero of Time felt alive. Above him the Mountain puffed slowly, a ring of grey ash encircling its tip.

The trip to Death Mountain had been uneventful. They had spent a night in the old Sheikah village of Kakariko to shelter themselves from the storm. Grey clouds still floated across the sky, but now the sun was now shyly peeking out from behind them.

"Stunning, don't you think, Chitz?" asked Link.

"What? Me? Haha," the Imp replied, looking coy. "Why I didn't realise you felt that way. Haha."

Link smiled, leaning back on a rock. "You know what I mean. Up here Hyrule looks so peaceful and beautiful." He paused, searching for the right words. "Like a baby sleeping."

Chitz made a face. "Haha. You're not going to start reciting poetry on me now, are you? Haha. If so, let me go find some rocks to plug into my ears. Haha."

The Hero of Time laughed. First Zayna, then Fran and Tessa and now Chitz. Link suddenly realised how much he had missed the company of other people, holed up in the desert for five summers. Yes, there had been his friend Shade, but he had only visited infrequently. What a waste. Moping in his hut, thinking about the past. He had taken an unheroic like perverse pleasure in simmering in his own misery.

But that still did not mean he wanted to see Zelda. Or did he?

Link sighed, closing his eyes. He could not quite work out his feelings for the Queen. Thinking of her sometimes brought out a warm feeling of affection in his heart. But at other times the memory of their parting and the words she had said gripped him in bitter fury. So much so that he had to sometimes go outside and just .. hit things. Usually just old, dead tree trunks with his sword, but still. Cyle had taken both Malon and Zelda away from him and now he ruled Hyrule while Link had a little wooden hut that desperately needed cleaning to call his own. Life, he mused, was a very strange thing.

Still. He had learned not to dwell on things for too long and so he turned his attention to Darunia, King of the Gorons. It would be good to see him again, but he knew that his friend was very sick. Link hoped he still lived. Idly rolling a pebble in his hand, the Hero of Time wondered what had been so important that a Goron had died just to give him the summons. He scratched at his hand. Something so important that the Triforce itself seemed to be telling him to attend to it.

Nice to be busy though. He had spent the five past summers spending his days at Xeno's tavern, talking to Shade and digging for ore in the desert to sell to foreign traders. Now he had something to aim for .. now he had responsibility. The last reflection made him think about Zayna. His grand idea about training a new Hero had failed quite spectacularly. Not only had he taught her next to nothing, but he had also lost her and had no clue how to get her back.

Chitz bounded over to him. "Haha. So, Hero, tell me about these Morons."

"Gorons."

"Yes, haha, Gorons. They don't eat Imps do they?"

The corner of Link's mouth twisted mischievously. "Actually," he said, looking thoughtful. "I think they do."

Link had to grab onto the Imp's neck to prevent him from bolting down the Mountain in dread.

"I jest with you, Chitz," he laughed. "Gorons only eat rocks."

Chitz glared. "They better do."

Link noticed that that was the first time the little creature had not laughed.

"Haha. Well, let's get going then," Chitz continued. "Quit your morbid musings and let's move. Haha." He pointed up. "I think I found myself a nice little cave up there. Haha."

"Oh?" Link said, distracted. Chitz was right. It was time to move on both mentally and physically. He had put off his meeting with Darunia for far too long. Absentmindedly, his gaze followed to where Chitz was pointing and his heart froze in recognition.

He blinked hard to make sure he was not seeing things. At that moment, he felt another small tingle from the Triforce markings on his hand. He chewed on his lip, pondering as the emotions churned within him. Finally, he came to a decision.

"Wait here, Chitz," Link said grimly. "There's something I have to do."

*

Small clouds of sand puffed upwards as Zelda, Tyron and Prince Chizan trotted along Death Mountain Trail. Once, long ago, enormous boulders would roll down the path from the top of the Mountain, surprising unwary travellers. Now though, the path was clear and perfectly safe.

Zelda looked at her two companions. The Prince's face was covered in a deep blue cloth that wrapped around his head to hide his features. There was a tiny slit for him to see through, but other than that he looked like something from a small child's nightmare. She herself had her hood up to cover her identity. Tyron had his silver hair tied in a ponytail, but had done nothing to conceal his face. Not many people knew what he looked like anyway, so he had little need for deception.

"I heard Darunia was sick," the Queen said. She still held the title, despite the end of her marriage. She was of true royal blood and Cyle was not. But now it was a title with no power behind it.

"Yes," said Tyron. "Chalance Vance poisoned him."

He had said it with such casualness that Zelda had thought she had misheard him. "What?"

"It is as I said," Tyron continued. "Vance visited him one night a few months ago. Darunia got sick soon after. It does not take the Triforce of Wisdom to realise what had happened."

"The sorcerer is a devious one," the Prince mumbled.

"Why wasn't I told about this?" she asked, her voice alarmed.

"What would you have done?" Tyron said. "There was no proof. There was nothing to tell."

"I could have sent help!" she said angrily.

"I visited him," Tyron said calmly. Zelda wondered when exactly he had done that. She had not known Tyron to have actually ever left the castle in all the time she had been acquainted with him. "He is beyond help. This sickness will consume him." He turned to the Queen with a small smile. "I apologise for not notifying you, Your Highness."

Zelda bit down her frustration and kicked at her mare. She galloped ahead of the others, suddenly feeling that she had to get to Darunia as fast as possible. Small rocks scattered and the wind tugged at her hood as she rode on.

Again she felt the markings of the Triforce tingle and she wondered what it was trying to tell her. She still had so much to think about. Sometimes she felt her head would burst. Cyle's betrayal cut at her soul. Ironic really, considering what she and her friends had been planning to do to him first.

She felt sorry for Chizan, dragged into a war not of his making. The Prince, however, had remained his unflappably calm self. Sometimes she found this annoying and yet at other times, his serenity was a rock to hold onto as the stormy waves of life battered her. It helped that his tranquil composure augmented the natural beauty of his features. She shook her head. Now was not the time for thoughts such as these.

Her personal feud with her husband had now spread out of control. People were going to get hurt. People were going to die. She closed her eyes as guilt flooded through her. She was certain that taking an army to reclaim what was rightfully hers would not be as bad as anything Cyle and Vance had planned for the world.

Her mind drifted to Link. She wondered where he was. A bittersweet sadness tugged at her every time she thought of her old friend. Had not the Door of Time been closed, she would have used the Master Sword and gone back in time to give her younger self a good shake. She remembered the time Link had stood before her, sheepishly asking her hand for marriage. Every fibre in her body had screamed at her to say 'yes!' but idiotically she had let her foolish feelings for Cyle overrule her good sense. Plus, people had been in her ear. Cyle is of good noble stock, they had said. Link was a Hylian with no pedigree, they had said. And then there were the words she had said to him afterwards. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Tears threatened to appear, but she was distracted by the two men calling out to her. She glanced behind her and saw Tyron beckoning frantically. She trotted over to them, and got off of her horse.

"What is the matter?" she asked.

The Prince violently pressed her to the rocky face of the mountain. "There is someone up there!" he hissed, pointing.

Zelda's heart thudded. The sour taste of trepidation lined her mouth and she broke out in a sweat. Had Cyle's agents found them already? Would he really kill her? Of course he would, she thought bitterly.

Her mind crowded with too many thoughts, she let her gaze rise up to where the Prince was pointing.

*

Zayna waited. She was dressed in fresh clothes and she had a bag ready full of spare garments and other things she needed. No weapons, obviously.

She hoped they would not be travelling via whatever portals the Demon Riders used. Then again, she thought ruefully, she hoped she would not be travelling with any of them at all.

Finally, she saw the thin, sallow skinned face of Chalance Vance appear. She tensed, ready for what she had to do.

"You are ready, I see," he said, looking her up and down. "I will notify the King."

Zayna gazed back, her arms folded. "I have decided," she said in her most arrogantly sounding voice. "That I do not wish to go."

"Don't be foolish," he breathed. "I will make you go."

She walked up to the energy bars, her eyes hard, her face set in a cocky smile. "Chalance Vance. You could not make a Kokiri climb a tree."

He hissed, a little annoyed. Zayna saw the texture of the bars change slightly.

"In fact," she continued. "A Kokiri is probably a lot smarter than you, a lot more resourceful and a heck of a lot more better looking than you."

"Do not mock me, woman," he spat. She saw the bars flicker.

"My, my, what a temper," she said. "You know what? I think I've hit a nerve." She paused, as he hesitated. "What was it? Pretty little Kokiri girl reject you did she? Not man enough for her were you? I bet she told you to go live with some Gerudo - after all, you'd fit in perfectly in a place where there was no one but your fellow females right?"

Chalance Vance roared, his ire ignited. At that instant, the bars expanded, split and then burst into a million crystal coloured shards. Vance stood there stunned, his mouth hanging open, as Zayna's fist rammed into his nose. He fell back, hitting his head on the wall. Another kick and he was knocked out cold.

Pausing to pick up her bag, she stepped over the prone sorcerer and made her way down the dimly lit corridor. Briefly, she wondered if she should break the man's neck, but decided she did not have enough time. Besides, it was a cowardly way to kill someone.

She realised she had no idea where she was going as she made her way through the winding passages. She knew the Temple of Time was above her, so clearly she had to find some stairs.

Zayna felt their presence before she heard them. Pressing her back to the wall, she held her breath staring at the end of the passage, which crisscrossed with another corridor. She watched the flickering torchlights as her heart pounded. There. The Demon Riders floated past in the other opening, not even giving a glance in her direction.

Tiptoeing slowly, she made her way to the other walkway. Peering around, she spotted the stairs towards the left and let out a sigh of relief. She softly crept her way to the stone steps, her eyes and ears alert. She paused for a moment, listening.

Silence.

She bounded up the stairs, straining her leg muscles. The steps seem to go on forever. One hundred. Two hundred. Her legs ached and she was bathed in sweat by the time she saw the comforting sight of a stone door at the top. Pushing against it, she fell into the main hallway of the Temple of Time, the familiar humming sounding like the best thing she had ever heard in her life.

Briefly glancing at the Master Sword stuck in its pedestal, she rushed for the door. Outside, the sunlight stung her eyes. They had not yet gotten used to seeing anything else but gloomy darkness. She did not care.

She ran straight into Hyrule Market, knocking people out of the way. They spun around angrily, giving her annoyed shouts and shaking their fists. She slowed down, attempting to catch her breath. Trying to calm herself, she walked with the people hoping to blend into the crowd. She saw a child chase a dog and a couple oddly dancing despite there not being any music. People stood, talking, laughing and trading.

Just like at the tavern in the desert, the sound of so many human voices soothed her soul and she sighed contentedly. She was free! Free!

Now all she had to do was figure out what to do next.

*

Link walked along the tunnel, his hand trailing against the rock wall. The air felt oppressive like the Mountain itself grieved over the terrible sight it had witnessed here. He swallowed trying to bring some moisture to his dry mouth. He realised he was also trembling slightly.

The tunnel opened out into a cavern and suddenly he was there. The lava had solidified and was now a bumpy grey mass of rock. He glanced to the right. One small alcove. He glanced to the left. Another small alcove. He peered closely. The lever was still there, but half broken and rusted brown.

He gazed up at the ceiling. Knotted to the top were two small broken stumps of rope. He looked across to the other side. A wrecked wooden platform stood, decayed with age. Link remembered back. Had he possessed a magic arrow he could have taken out the wizard instead of having to have to shoot for the ropes. Somehow, Cyle had brought one, even though Link swore that he had not fetched one with him from Lon Lon Ranch.

The chamber was silent. Peaceful, even.

Like a tomb.

Each heartbeat brought a painful twinge to his soul. How things could have been so different, he thought bitterly. If the lever had just been allowed to move, everyone's life would have been different. His. Zelda's. Malon's.

Tears came to his eyes as he slowly reached back for his boomerang. He flipped it up into the air and then caught it. His hand was slippery with sweat. He paused, staring at the lever with narrowed eyes. Link pulled his arm back until the muscles in his shoulder screamed in pain and then hurled the boomerang with a snarl. He watched as it chopped through the air. With a metallic clang that echoed in his ears, it hit the lever. The rusted metal column shifted from left to right.

There was a deep rumble. The cavern shook slightly. Some loose rocks fell from the ceiling. Nothing else happened. No hidden platform revealed itself. He guessed that the lava was too solid and the mechanism too rusted from disuse for it to work.

He sighed as he watched the boomerang float back towards him, readying his hand to catch it. What had possessed him to come here anyway? There was nothing but pain and bitterness here. Nothing good could have come out of this.

Like a hurtling arrow, a black clad hand shot out in front of his face and caught the boomerang. Link spun around swiftly, instinctively reaching for his sword. He cursed himself, so lost had he been in his own thoughts that someone had snuck up on him unawares.

"Hello, Link," said Zelda.


	12. A Queen, A Hero & A Goron King

Chapter 11

"What in the name of the Pit are _you_ doing here?"

Zelda stood, unblinking and unfazed, her face and heart calm. She looked at Link, his face twisting as he tried to battle conflicting emotions. In one corner of his temple a vein throbbed rhythmically. She tried not to feel too dismayed at his anger. He looked slightly different. His face was a little more rugged, a little more worn down. His eyes were bulging and a glassy sheen plastered them, betraying the pain he felt.

She noticed the angry, long scar creased on his forehead and she reached for it. "Link, what happened to your…?"

He flinched, jerking his head away leaving her to clutch at empty air. "You have not answered my question," he said simply.

Zelda turned away from him for a moment to look thoughtfully at their surroundings. She saw the platform and the stumps of rope. Lastly, the lever caught her eye. Recognition hit her and she realised what he had been doing here. Her throat tightened. "I remember this place," she said, her voice quiet. "This is where…"

"…where your husband murdered Malon"

She did not respond to his heated retort. He had placed a slight emphasis on the word 'husband' making it sound like he was chewing on something distasteful. She kept her gaze straight ahead. There was no sound, save for their breathing. She swore that she could even hear their hearts beating. Link seemed to be waiting for her to speak. His eyes were locked on her and his fists were clenched tightly. He was ready for a fight. Not physically, of course, but he was ready to defend his opinion.

"I wonder why he did it," she said at last. Her voice seemed to echo dissonantly around the cavern, disturbing her.

Link took a step back. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw shock and confusion fighting to be displayed on his face. Clearly he had not been expecting that. Neither, it seemed, had she. The truth of it had only dawned on her at that very moment.

"So," he said, his voice softer now. He seemed to be pondering, as if he had not quite believed her words. "You know I wasn't lying?" His voice was cracking, like a bridge crumbling under a heavy burden. She realised that he had waited eight long, lonesome summers to hear her say what she had just said and her heart ached for him in sympathy.

She saw the relief in his face, mixed with the apprehension that this was nothing more than a cruel trick. He looked very much like a person who had been reprieved from execution at the very last second, but was not sure if he was dreaming or not.

"I know now that you told the truth," she said, her voice gentle. She saw tears glisten in his eyes. His shoulders slumped slightly as his body relaxed. Slowly, he raised his hand a little; as if he was going to touch her, then let it drop by his side again. She saw that it was trembling. She realised with mild surprise that she was trembling also.

"Your husband cannot be too pleased at this change of heart," he said. His voice was stronger now, more confident. Yet, there was still a cautious, slightly disbelieving tone there.

She turned to face him, her face set in a grim expression. "He is no longer my husband."

Once again, he was shocked. "What happened?" he asked, when he had found his voice.

Zelda paused, swallowing. "He's a murderer. He's scum," she said slowly, repeating the words that he had said to her long ago. She gave him a sad smile. "I lived to regret marrying him." Her voice was little more than a whisper now.

She saw it. A hint of a smile had passed over his face. Her heart gladdened, yet there was trepidation mixed there too. She did not dare hope for his forgiveness. She did not deserve it. All she wanted was to be friends again. Like they had been before Cyle had entered their lives. That would be enough. That would be more than anything she had in her life now. "He's an _evil_ man," she said.

"An evil man," he repeated, his voice sounding hollow. Again, he lifted his hand.

She stood, waiting expectantly. Her face displayed no expression and her posture was still.

He curled it into a fist in mid-air and let it drop, still looking confused. Events were obviously overwhelming him.

"Why are you here, Your Highness?" he asked, his tone formal. Now it was her turn to feel a little confused. Was he building a wall between them? Had he been stricken by the idea that he had been forsaken in preference for 'an evil man'? Saddened, she realised that her hope for friendship may have been nothing more than an immature daydream. Perhaps too much had passed between them.

"I come to visit Darunia," she sighed. She had reverted to her regal tone out of instinct. "We saw you climbing the mountain. I followed you here."

"We?"

"We." He waited for her to elaborate. She stayed silent.

"Why are _you_ here Link, Hero of Time?" she asked.

"I visit Darunia also." He paused, looking out over the hardened lava. They were silent again. They did not seem to know what to say. Abruptly, he changed tack and said, "She's under there somewhere. She did not even get an honourable burial."

Zelda followed his gaze, looking pensive. Her heart felt cold and her anger grew. "Link," she said, surprising him by the iron determination in her voice. "Cyle must be taken to task for his misdeeds." He waited, listening. "The King has taken control of Hyrule. I need to get it back. I will prepare an army for this." He raised an eyebrow as she looked at him intently. "I need a Knight to lead this army. To inspire it to victory."

Link folded his arms across his chest. "What about all that talk about not needing a Hero? About how the evil only existed _because_ of the Hero?" His voice was quiet, but she heard the emotion in his throat, threatening to spill out.

Zelda flinched at the words. Spreading her arms wide she said, "I was young and blinded, Link. We all make stupid mistakes in our youth." She stopped to look straight at his eyes. "I am sorry."

The muscles in his face tightened and she could not tell what feelings he was fighting with. Suddenly, he turned away and started walking down the tunnel towards the exit. The Queen was surprised by the action and her heart threatened to crack. She closed her eyes and stilled her emotions. She would not let it break.

"Link," she called after him. He was quickly disappearing from view. "Hyrule needs its hero."

He was gone. The silence swallowed her. She stood there, motionless, listening to the beating of her heart. When she spoke, her voice was nothing more than a whisper. Harsh, slow and sad.

"I need my Hero."

*

Link burst out of the tunnel, grateful to gulp the cool, mountain air. He had felt far too smothered in the cavern. He walked rapidly, his head and heart feeling like they had been perforated. The Hero of Time wanted to think about something else. He found that if he focused on one feeling it would instantly be wrenched to another contradictory emotion. Confusion. Hope. Anger. Love.

How could she have been so calm? Did she feel nothing? Her serenity had bothered him and yet, at the same time, her tranquil bearing had made her look beautiful. Dignified. Like a true Queen.

Chitz jumped out from behind a rock. "I tried to stop her! Haha. Truly I did! Haha." Link had no time for the Imp now and walked past him.

The Imp sniffed. "Haha. Who is she anyway?"

Link stopped. Glancing over his shoulder he saw the Queen appearing from the mouth of the tunnel, her eyes blinking in the sunlight.

"She's a…" A what? An old acquaintance? A person who had rejected him to marry the murderer of one their closest companions? "A friend." The word sounded bitter.

"Oooohhhhhh," said Chitz, with a wink. "A friend. Haha. Wait till I tell Tessa! Haha! Yes, I will!"

Link threw him a dirty look, but did not respond. He continued down the path to Death Mountain trail. Waiting at the bottom were two men. That could not mean anything but trouble. Good. He needed to release some tension. He drew his sword and started running.

"Link, wait!" He recognised the voice as Tyron's, an old friend of Zelda's, but it was too late. He had already swung his sword to attack.

The other man crossed his arms into an 'X' position. For a horrific moment, Link thought his sword would slice through the man's hands. At the last instant, two knives popped out of the man's sleeve armour and Link's sword collided into them spraying them with a deluge of hot, yellow sparks.

The man pushed Link back, the sword and knives still entwined. "So…honoured…to meet you…at last…Hero of Time." The man strained and Link saw that his face was wrapped in a scarf.

Not willing to release his grip, Link gritted his teeth and held his sword steady. "The…pleasure…is all…mine."

"Link, stop this." Zelda's voice rang out from behind him as he heard her footsteps come to a halt. "Chizan, release him."

"As you wish," Chizan said. As quick as they had appeared, the knives shot straight back into his armour. Link fell to the floor from the forward momentum.

He felt the arms off the stranger lift him up, but Link pushed him away violently.

Zelda sighed. "Link, this is Prince Chizan of the Freelander Emirate. He is accompanying me and Tyron on our journey."

Link looked the Prince up and down. The man was tall and muscular and he could make out the shape of strange armour under his cloak. He wondered why the man kept his face covered. A Prince was he? Typical.

"You always did like the nobility, Your Highness," said Link. "Especially the more muscular ones."

Zelda glared at him and immediately Link regretted his words. What was wrong with him? He had already tarnished himself by walking away when the Queen had made a request of him. And now these silly words. This was not a very honourable way to behave.

He tensed, and then opened his mouth to say some conciliatory words, when the Prince interrupted him. "I mean my words, Hero of Time. You are thought of highly in my homelands. This is a great day for me, one that I will always cherish." The Prince massaged his arms. "My knives are now forever honoured by being touched by the sword of the Hero of Time."

Link thought that that was a little too much. He vaguely knew of the Freelanders. He had heard stories of their prowess in battle. He very much wanted to speak to the Queen and set things right, but the Prince had addressed him and it would be rude to ignore the man.

"Forgive me for my rashness," Link said. "I am not…," He glanced at Zelda, who still looked mildly annoyed. "I am not myself today."

The Prince laughed. "'Tis fine, Hero of Time. We cannot always remain calm every day."

Link raised an eyebrow at the words. From his posture and tone of voice the Prince appeared to be the most serene person alive. He wondered if Zelda had learnt to be so tranquil from him. The thought brought a sudden jerk to his heart that surprised him. How close exactly were the Prince and the Queen?

"Link, my boy, how are you?" Tyron asked, grinning. Link grinned back, momentarily forgetting what he had been thinking about.

"It has been a long time, Tyron," he said.

"Yes, it has." Tyron looked at him, one corner of his mouth twisted in a half-smile. "I see the desert sun has given you a bit of a tan."

"Well, you look the same as always. I sometimes wonder if you were born looking exactly the way you do now."

Tyron winked. "Can't give away any of my secrets now, can I? To look this good takes talent."

His eyes twinkled and Link laughed.

"How is your health?" asked Link.

"I am well, but worrying about the Queen here is sure to slice years off of my life."

Chitz scampered up besides Link, making Zelda jump.

"And who is this?" said Tyron, amused.

"This is Chitz," said Link. "Chitz the Imp."

"Imp?" Chizan said. For the very first time, Link thought he heard the Prince's voice falter from its usual composure. "Pah! Silly creatures."

Link looked over to the Queen, wondering why she was so quiet. She was frowning slightly, looking into the distance. Her head snapped up, catching him looking at her. She smiled, her annoyance with him seemingly forgotten.

"Haha. Don't you 'Pah!' me, Freelander!" Chitz said. He ran up to the Prince's leg and started boxing his kneecaps. Chizan stood there, bemused.

"I am Chitz the Imp. Haha. Friend of Link, who is in turn friend of Fran," he paused to look at Zelda, slyly. "And Tessa."

Zelda looked down at the creature, an amused expression on her face. "Who is Tessa?"

Before he could answer, they were interrupted by a small group of rolling Gorons. The Gorons righted themselves, looking at each member of the party one by one.

"Welcome," one of them said, his voice sounding gravelly. "We have been expecting you."

*

Prince Chizan marvelled at the ingenuity of the Goron Village. No, he corrected himself, Goron _City._ A breathing, organic habitat built into a mountain. Simply amazing. He found the Gorons to be interesting creatures. Winding paths curved around the inside of the mountain, whereby the Gorons could shape themselves into spheres and roll up and down.

The air shimmered slightly from the natural heat that radiated from the mountain's core. He had watched the Goron children roll around, laughing and playing, while the adults beat drums. There was an eerie resonance to the city. Because of its enclosed location, voices constantly echoed and any other noise was amplified to a greater degree.

The most astounding thing of all though was the crop that they grew. Some sort of explosive vegetable that was so fertile that removing one instantly resulted in another growing in its place.

They were sitting in the Goron Throne Room at the moment, wall hanging torches crackling. He had no fear of being recognised here, so he had taken off his scarf. Had he not the heat would have stifled him. Link had stared at him, wide eyed, when first seeing his features. Chizan was used to that sort of reaction, so it had not bothered him. Then again, this was the fabled Hero of Time and it would take a lot for the Prince to become annoyed with such a renowned figure.

The King of the Gorons slumped on his throne. Chizan recalled that his name was Darunia. His fellows called him Big Brother. A quaint little name. While all the other Gorons were bronze in colour, Darunia's skin had greyed and his eyes had reddened. It was clear that he did not have long to live.

Zelda knelt beside the King, holding his hand. Her expression was tense. On the other side of the room sat Link, his ghastly little Imp friend with him. Tyron was sitting next to Chizan himself. The Prince wondered at the Queen and the Hero. They seemed to be purposefully keeping their distance from one another. Yet, he occasionally caught them glancing at each other when they thought the other was not looking. Strange behaviour for such supposedly old friends. He briefly wondered if all the songs sung about them were true. He still could not believe that the Queen had married such a one as Cyle Narawan of No Heroic Deed.

Vines hung from the ceilings of the Throne Room and little pools of water bubbled from the heat. Infant Gorons scampered around the King, munching on rocks.

Darunia coughed as he tried to speak. "My friends," he said, his voice raspy. The Goron King tried to smile, but it seemed to cause him pain. "I am glad you have finally come."

"You need to rest, Darunia," Zelda said. "We should not keep you."

"No, no." he replied, his expression dark. "This is far too important."

"Your Highness," Link said. For a moment, he thought the Hero was addressing the Queen. Then, he realised that he was talking to the Goron. "You summoned me many months ago. I apologise for being so late."

"No need for apologies, Link. You are here now. Both of you." He gave a weak smile to Zelda. "And that is all that matters."

"What would you request of me?" Link asked.

Darunia closed his eyes for a moment as the silence hung in the air. "What do you know of the Sacred Realm?"

"I do not know too much. It is a … spiritual place. The Temple of Light stands there. It is linked to Hyrule and can only be accessed through the three Spiritual Stones."

The Goron King wheezed as his expression changed. "The Sacred Realm is a living, breathing world. It is populated by creatures, foul and vicious, that were locked away there for our - and their – own good. It is for no small reason that Ganon was imprisoned there."

They waited for him to continue as the torches spluttered and sizzled.

"The Sacred Realm is cut off from our world, the Terrestrial Realm. Yes, the Spiritual Stones can access it, but … there was a back door. Created by Sages millions of summers ago. It was their insurance, in case the Stones were ever lost."

"A door?" Zelda asked, looking confused. "I have never heard of such a thing."

"It is a legend," Darunia continued. "A secret well hidden and protected by blood."

"You speak of the Gate." Everyone raised their eyes in surprise at Tyron's voice.

Darunia coughed, trying to laugh. "Ah. I should have known you would know, Tyron. Please enlighten us and help me to carry this heavy burden."

Tyron's expression was hard and his tone sombre. "A Gate was built. Millions of summers ago. A _physical_ Gate, hidden on an island off Hyrule. This Gate was… _is_ an actual connection to the Sacred Realm. A portal between dimensions if you will."

"How can it be opened? And why has it not already?" Link asked. He had drawn his sword and was polishing it with a cloth. He seemed to be attempting to keep himself busy as he listened.

"The Gate can only be opened by blood. Every thousand summers a girl is born that has, in her blood, the ability to open the Gate. She is the Key. The Gate is opened by having the Key drain her blood into it. The mothers usually recognise the Key. They have dreams, the Triforce tells them the true nature of their offspring." He paused. "Usually the mothers were driven to kill their infant daughters before she could grow and fulfil her purpose."

"What has this got to do with us? Here, now?" the Queen asked. Her eyes were wide now and the Prince could see the flickering torch light reflected within them.

"I fear, my dear Zelda," said Darunia, quietly. "That your husband plans to open the Gate."

Chizan saw the Queen's face pale.

"He wants to release Ganon?" asked the Hero of Time. "Is that it?"

"No. If it were only that simple," said Tyron. "An ancient and, I had thought, long forgotten legend tells of the Joining. The Sacred and Terrestrial Realms were always meant to be kept apart. Opening the Gate links one to the other. It is said that if one conquers this world and then conquers the Sacred Realm, they would be Joined. And the one who did this would have access to immense power. The power to warp reality, the power to break through the Heavens and conquer the universe itself.

"The Terrestrial Realm could be conquered by any means – fair or foul. But the Sacred Realm could only be taken by force. By waging war on its denizens." He stopped to sip a crystal glass filled with blueish liquid. "Within the Sacred Realm itself stands the ancient and mighty city of Jaroga. If the King can take that, the whole Realm will fall."

Zelda lowered her head, her voice faint. She seemed to be dazed. "It's all so clear now. All those treaties, always asking for his allies armies in case of an 'emergency'."

"Yes," said Darunia. "I had my suspicions when the King had pushed for his One Hyrule Pact. My fears grew as he gained more allies overseas. He needs to conquer this world first, or else the Joining will not occur. With the armies he gains from his new allies, he can then wage war on the Sacred Realm. Or so he thinks."

Chizan's heart chilled. He had known the King was evil, but the sheer malevolence of the man was incredible. Something nagged at him and he managed to pinpoint it. "He has declared war on the Freelanders," he said. "I refused to join him in his treaty. He plans to wipe us out to further his aim."

"And us Gorons too," Darunia said sadly.

"This means the Key is alive," Link said. "Does he possess her?"

"I do not know," said Darunia.

"I doubt it," Tyron added. "If he had the Key, he would have opened the Gate by now."

"Perhaps he waits to wipe us Freelanders out first," Chizan said. "Then he can focus on the Sacred Realm."

Tyron nodded, his eyes thoughtful. "Perhaps."

"What of Chalance Vance?" Zelda asked. The Prince twitched at the mention of the name. If anything was a creature from the Sacred Realm, it was surely the King's Advisor. "How does he fit in?"

"Vance's motives are unknown," said Darunia. "He is helping the King, certainly. But why? I do not know. He has the power to subtly control weak minds over a short period of time." The Goron paused. "He managed to get my cook to feed me the poison that eats me from within as I speak."

Zelda gasped sharply and was about to speak, but the Hero cut her off. "I saw a village in the Melody Forest. The residents had been slaughtered. It seemed that Royal Guards had perpetrated the deed. Vance's work?"

"Almost certainly," Tyron answered. "The sorcerer is searching for something. I would not put it past him to enchant Guards to do his dirty work."

"Perhaps he was searching for the Key?" Link said.

"Perhaps."

"Do we have any idea who she is?" Zelda asked.

The Goron King paused, thinking. "Think back, my dear," he said, stroking her hand. "Is there any female your King took an unusual interest in?"

Zelda frowned, pondering. "I had an Advisor," she said slowly. "He kept asking for her. She did not like him much." She grimaced. "Then one night she mysteriously disappeared. Zayna her name was."

Out of the corner of his eye, the Prince saw Link freeze at the mention of the name. Chizan saw him open his mouth to speak, but then he seemed to decide against it and stayed silent. Strange.

If the Hero was not going to speak, then the Prince would ask his own queries. "How do we put a stop to this?" he said. "We find the Key ourselves? And then what – kill her?"

"Perhaps this Zayna is the Key, perhaps she is not," Darunia explained. "The legend states that a few summers before the Key comes into this world, a Counter Key would be born. She would have powers that lay dormant within her that could close the Gate if it was opened unnecessarily. It could be that Vance searches for this Counter Key."

Again, Chizan noticed a troubled look on the face of the Hero of Time.

"So we have to find the Counter Key first?" Zelda said.

"If she still lives," Tyron answered. "Know that Cyle and Chalance Vance would stop at nothing to hunt down the Counter Key. They would not hesitate to kill her."

This time Link had his eyes closed and the expression on his face seemed pained. It was like he had come to some sort of realisation.

"Link…?" the Queen asked, her voice gentle with concern.

The Hero of Time opened his eyes, and tears streamed down his face.

"Malon," he said shakily. "Malon was the Counter Key."


	13. Under a Shadow

Chapter 12  
  
  
  
She decided that she just had to get out of Hyrule. Thinking about it, Zayna realised that that is what she should have done in the first place. Not try and find the Hero of Time. Not try and learn how to fight expertly so that she could defend herself. No, she should have just left the country as fast as possible. The further away she got from Chalance Vance and the King, the safer she would be.  
  
  
  
She mused on the irony of that. Here she was, still in Hyrule Market Town, right under their noses. Still. They would never dream of searching for her here, would they?  
  
  
  
With a deft hand, she swept up two empty glass mugs, while wiping the table down with the other. The mugs still had traces of foam pooling at the bottom and clinked as she took them to the bar. She had decided to get a job waiting tables in the tavern primarily because she needed the rupees to equip herself before she travelled. Once she had enough money she would embark to one of Hyrule's ports and get on the first ship out of there. She did not know where she would go, but at the moment she no longer cared.  
  
  
  
The voices that carried across the tavern were gentle and calm. She had picked the place deliberately. The tavern only sold the popular and refreshing milk from Lon Lon Ranch. The people that frequented this place would not be the type that would cause trouble. And trouble was something she wanted to keep away from for the time being.  
  
  
  
She hardly ever left the place anyway. She had managed to convince the tavernkeeper to let her have a room to herself in the upper quarters. The 'keeper had been reluctant and grumbled about it, but had eventually caved in when she let him take a cut of her wages as rent. Only once or twice had she snuck out, heavily disguised, to buy weapons and supplies that she rushed to her room before anyone noticed her.  
  
  
  
Zayna stood behind the counter, washing the mugs. As was her usual habit now, she kept her ears open to catch the local gossip. Mostly, she was on the lookout for any information about any possible search for her, unlikely that it was that ordinary people would know of such thing. There were other things too that she heard. Things that troubled her.  
  
  
  
Two men at a table nearby caught her attention. "The King be wanting all healthy men to report for duty, have ye heard?" one of the men said.  
  
  
  
There was a snort, before his friend replied. "Aye, but the King can go to the Pit for all I care. I got a wife and kids to feed. I got no time for silly wars with people I never met."  
  
  
  
She was now well aware of the war between Hyrule and the Freelander Emirate. No battles had taken place yet as both sides were still preparing. Peeking from the window of her room, she had seen soldiers train and had watched as Guards were extra vigilant in letting people in and out of the town.  
  
  
  
This war puzzled her though. Despite outnumbering the Freelanders, Cyle was still going up against a highly skilled warrior race. He may win, but not without heavy losses. What then was the point?  
  
  
  
"'Tis true," the first man continued. "I hear they're preparing the navy to move out within the week. Rumour has it that the King and his allies are planning the first strike. An attack against a Freelander port."  
  
  
  
Zayna started to feel uneasy hearing that. The tavernkeeper leaned across the counter to her, his expression annoyed. "Stop dawdling, woman," he said. "Get those glasses clean as quick as possible and get back out serving."  
  
  
  
She felt the hint of anger running through her veins and stilled it. She knew her position here and she knew it was temporary. Losing her temper here was useless. Surprised, she congratulated herself on being able to slightly control her ire.  
  
  
  
She glided out into the forest of tables, chairs and people. One or two men glanced at her, but their gaze did not linger. She was grateful for that. They seemed to be good men, those that came here. Winding her way around the room she spotted someone raise a hand wanting assistance. She took the long way round, so she would pass within earshot of the two talking men.  
  
The first man's friend was talking again. "Aye. An attack. Good luck to them, I say. But count me out."  
  
  
  
"Come on! Where's your sense of duty? Your love for crown and country?"  
  
  
  
"I loved the Queen," the friend's voice was bitter now. He sniffed, taking a mouthful of milk before saying; "I don't see anyone deserving of my love now."  
  
  
  
Zayna had heard the rumours about how the Queen had been caught with the Freelander Prince in a compromising position. She had been Zelda's Advisor for many months and she did not believe a word of it.  
  
"That's dangerous talk my friend," the first man said. "You had better keep those things to yourself."  
  
  
  
"Why?" his friend asked indignantly. "You know it's true. We all know it's true."  
  
  
  
"True or not, now is not the time or the place to say it."  
  
  
  
There was a pause, before the friend whispered. Zayna had to strain to listen. "Aye, you're right. Anyway, I have to get to the ports, get my last bit of trade in. Have ye heard? Once the navy moves they're not going to let any ships in and out of port except for special circumstances."  
  
  
  
That was all Zayna had to hear. She took a customer's order; only half listening to their words. Dread had clutched at her heart. She had to get to a port before the navy struck. Mentally, she made a calculation of how much she had saved. The answer was not encouraging. But it would have to do.  
  
  
  
Time was running out. She had to leave. Today.  
  
*  
  
  
  
Her marriage had been a sham. Zelda watched the rhythmic hammering of a Goron blacksmith as he forced a glowing, orange metal bar into shape. Heat radiated from his work in waves, making her brow sweat. She continued to watch, not really interested, but just to have something to do. The steady clank of the hammer felt strangely soothing to her.  
  
  
  
Darunia and Tyron were locked in the Throne Room, pouring over ancient, tattered scrolls trying to find some hint of a clue that could help them in their predicament now that the Counter Key was gone. She did not know where the Prince and Link were. At the moment that was the least of her concerns.  
  
  
  
Cyle had used her, married her just to set into motion his plan for conquest. She recalled every happy memory she had had with him, every gift, every sweet word and now each felt like a bitter dart piercing her heart. Lies. It had all been lies.  
  
  
  
What astounded her the most was the depth of the deception. He must have been planning this for summers, even before he had even met her. The man had killed Malon long before they had even married.  
  
  
  
Malon. Her best friend, bar Link. Cyle had taken her away from Zelda. Had driven Link away from her for so many summers. Her lip curled in disgust. How had she let herself be so easily fooled? How much had she lost because of this man? She closed her eyes as the pain increased. How much more would she lose to him?  
  
  
  
She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder and she slowly turned.  
  
  
  
"Prince Chizan," she said in greeting, slightly disappointed that it had not been Link. Her voice sounded lifeless even to her.  
  
  
  
"Your Highness," he replied. "Walk with me a while."  
  
  
  
She let him guide her by the arm, silent for a while as they watched the infants play and the people chat. Finally he said, "The Hero of Time wishes to find the Key. He believes that she is with the King."  
  
  
  
Zelda was perplexed at this. "How does he know that?"  
  
  
  
She had not had time to speak with Link since they had all met with Darunia. Truth be told, she had not really wanted to talk to anyone. She needed some time to herself.  
  
  
  
"I do not know," the Prince replied. "He is quite certain, however, that this 'Zayna' of yours is the Key."  
  
  
  
Chizan stopped to pick up a ball that had bounced into his path. Two children waited shyly, not wanting to ask him for it back. Smiling, he gently threw it at one of them who caught it with a wide grin.  
  
  
  
"I believe him," the Prince continued.  
  
  
  
"And why is that?"  
  
  
  
He turned to her, his purple eyes thoughtful. "I think he has met her. I think he knows her."  
  
  
  
"Why hasn't he said anything?" she asked.  
  
  
  
The Prince gave a small shrug. "You should ask him yourself." He was silent for a moment before adding, "What are your plans now? Do you still plan to go to Morolak?"  
  
  
  
Zelda sighed. The five days her ex-husband had given her to leave had passed. She just had had far too much to digest and could not reflect on her original intentions. "Cyle's plans depend on him holding the Key and conquering the Terrestrial World. If Link thinks he can find the Key then so be it. I can do my part by making sure that Cyle does not rule here. I will still sail for the Morolak Kingdom." She swallowed, trying to find order to her thoughts. "Prince Chizan, I need the Emirate and the Morolak Kingdom to be bonded as allies. We cannot make a separate defence against Hyrule. We must be united."  
  
  
  
"Under the circumstances, I think that a union would be possible," he said, surprising Zelda. She had thought that he would be a little wary of any alliance. "However, I think I should accompany you on your journey." She was a little bothered by the insistence in his voice.  
  
  
  
"I have Tyron with me," she said. "I need you in the Emirate to co-ordinate any possible treaty with the Morolaks."  
  
  
  
The Prince did not reply, but did not look happy either. She had no time for his wounded pride now. The situation was far too delicate.  
  
  
  
"Is Link going to go straight to the castle?" she asked.  
  
  
  
"He says he has a village to go to. To meet with some old friends he made a promise to," the Prince said. "After that, he will go to the castle."  
  
  
  
"On his own?" she said, her throat tightening. She was not prepared to lose Link to Cyle. Not now. Not ever. "I do not like it."  
  
  
  
"Perhaps the friends he goes to meet will aid him ..,"  
  
  
  
"Maybe. But I think we should all go to this village. Afterwards I will find a safe port to sail from. You can accompany me there if you wish, Chizan. But after that, I go to Morolak and you go home."  
  
  
  
Chizan sighed, but gave her a small smile. "As you command, Your Highness."  
  
  
  
They noticed a commotion by the entrance to the Throne Room and paused to see what was the matter. A young Goron was crying, his face stricken.  
  
  
  
"The King .. it's the King .. he's.," he gulped, trying to talk between sobs.  
  
  
  
Ice clouding her heart, Zelda marched to the Room, the Prince a few steps behind her. Entering, she heard the soft murmur of quiet weeping. Tyron looked up at her, his eyes and face stretched. He was kneeling besides the statuelike form of Darunia who was laying on the floor, his skin now dark grey and his eyes lifeless.  
  
  
  
Hanging on a chain around his neck was the Ocarina of Time. She had given it to him for safekeeping about ten summers ago. There were blocking spells around it now so that no one could use it.  
  
  
  
Zelda brought her hand to her mouth. Too much. Far too much hurt within just a space of two weeks. She looked up to see Link enter the room. His face was dull like he too had had to use up all his emotion too quickly.  
  
  
  
"There was nothing I could do," Tyron said, as Zelda sank to her knees and took the Goron King's hand in hers. "He just collapsed and then .."  
  
  
  
Zelda took in deep breaths as she felt the room spin slowly around her. Something inside her heart flared. Something small, but burning hot. She was sick of the pain. Sick of the hurt her ex husband had brought to her treasured land and beloved friends.  
  
  
  
It was time for her to hit back.  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
"I still cannot believe she got away so easily," the King said, his voice was measured but hinted at something else. Chalance Vance cared little for his liege's suspicions. He would get the Key back and when he did he would break her arms and legs so she could not escape again. Besides, all he needed was her blood, it mattered little if she was whole or not.  
  
  
  
"I apologise, sire," Vance said, putting on his most ingratiating tone of voice. "It was truly all my fault. We will find her."  
  
  
  
They were walking through the streets of Market Town, surrounded by a dozen accompanying soldiers armed to the teeth. People stopped and stared. Some called out to friends and kin to tell them that the King was taking an inspection. The usually noisy town was now reduced to hushed whispers.  
  
  
  
Cyle turned to him, his eyes rigid. "We must find her, Vance. I have no time for this. I am impatient and want to get the last stage of my plan underway."  
  
  
  
His plan? Vance thought not. Yes, he would help the King get the Key and he would help him to the Gate, but once the Gate was open Vance would be able to fulfil what he had waited many, many long summers to do.  
  
  
  
"How goes the war effort?" the King asked.  
  
  
  
"Our allied fleet have set sail. We have invasion parties ready. Once we take one port we will be able to enter Freelander space."  
  
  
  
"Any news on Zelda?" Cyle asked, his voice wavering as he spoke. The fool still had feelings for that worthless woman. Pathetic.  
  
  
  
"There has been no sight of her since she entered Goron territory," Vance answered. "She may still be in Hyrule."  
  
  
  
Cyle pursed his lips. "I do not like the sound of that. The longer she stays here, the easier it is for disparate elements to rally around her."  
  
  
  
"Do you still wish that the decree for her head be enforced? There are still mercenaries waiting at the foot of the mountain waiting for the word."  
  
  
  
The King lowered his head, thinking with his eyes closed. Vance waited, letting his gaze pass over the people. Such wastes of lives. They had no sense of anything greater than satisfying their own needs. It disgusted him to be just near such creatures. Look at them. Staring wide-eyed at the King and feigning affection. In reality they just wished to be in the Cyle's place themselves.  
  
  
  
He caught the sight of someone moving at the back of the crowd. He could not tell if the person was male of female, so heavily were they cloaked. There was something familiar about them though. Something about their posture.  
  
  
  
Vance looked back at his still-pondering liege. He let out his breath in annoyance. How could this man aspire to be bathed in the Joining if he could not let go of his weak feelings? The sorcerer hated using up his magic for trivial things, but it was time to give the King a little push.  
  
  
  
Imperceptible to the onlookers, Chalance Vance flicked his hand quickly. The King's head jerked up as if he had had an epiphany.  
  
  
  
"Yes," he said, his eyes glassy. "Kill her. Kill anyone with her. All of them."  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
Night had fallen and the air chilled. Zayna checked her possessions. She had managed to purchase a used sword, crossbow and hookshot, but had little left over to buy a shield or anything more than a few arrows.  
  
  
  
She opened the window letting the cool wind breeze over her. The Town Square was virtually deserted save for a few patrolling guards. She looked over at the Town wall that enclosed the Market. She saw the glow of torchlight by the gate, knowing that the guards there checked the papers of all those coming and out. She, however, had no papers. She would have to find another way out.  
  
  
  
Creeping down the passageway, she paused to listen at the tavernkeeper's door. Hearing the soft snore of the man asleep, she made her way to the stairs.  
  
  
  
It was completely dark, but Zayna had made sure that she had memorised a path out of the tavern. She had measured everything by paces and counting to twenty-five, she turned sharply right and walked down the stairs.  
  
  
  
Thirty steps. Turn right again, dodge the table. Three paces left, missing the counter. Straight ahead for fifty paces. Turn left. Miss another table. Turn right. There. The door.  
  
  
  
Reaching for her belt, she pulled out the counterfeit key that she had had made earlier in the day. She had been surprised by the unexpected tour by the King and his Advisor. Feeling safe because of her cloak she had tried to make her way as inconspicuously as possible. There had only been a moment, a heartbeat of terror when she had felt certain that she could sense the Advisor's icy gaze upon her. The feeling had passed quickly, but it had unnerved her.  
  
  
  
Gently opening the door, she stepped outside. There was some pale light from the moon and a few torches still burned, but mostly it was pitch black. Good. That suited her fine. Still cloaked, she hugged to the shadows and made her way to the Town wall.  
  
  
  
Walking up an embankment, the grass crunched under her boots. She winced. Every little sound felt like it was amplified a thousand times over. Glancing to the right she saw the gatehouse in the distance and heard the faint sound of bellowing laughter. Looking back up, she tried to guess how high the wall was. It was made of a whitish rock and was lined with cracks. It looked like it would crumble at a touch, but she knew it was far sturdier than that.  
  
  
  
Her eyes darted left and right, checking to make sure no one was about. Holding her arm steady, she took aim with her hookshot. The spear flew out with a metallic jangle, and then pierced the top of the wall with a 'clunk'. Her heart thudded. The blasted thing was far too loud. Surely, someone must have heard that?  
  
  
  
As if on cue, she heard faint footsteps coming from somewhere behind her. Glancing over her shoulder she saw the glow of a torchlight peek out from beside a house nearby. They had not seen her yet, but clearly had heard something.  
  
  
  
Angrily pressing the activation switch on the hookshot, she flew upwards before coming to a sharp stop at the top of the wall. She scrambled over the edge just as she heard the person round the corner.  
  
  
  
Zayna waited, holding her breath painfully. The space at the top of the wall was wide enough for two, so she laid flat on her front clutching her hookshot and trying not to even breath too hard. She gritted her teeth and felt blood pound into her ears. She heard soft footfalls from below and the crackling of a torch. A heartbeat. A second. Finally, she heard the footsteps fade away and she let out a breath, relaxing her grip on the hookshot.  
  
  
  
She stood, looking out over the edge at the dark moat on the other side. A movement at her feet caught her eye. She peered down at the flat roof of the wall. Something was not right. Up here, the floor seemed to be stirring. Something hissed.  
  
  
  
She saw them and took a step back in shock. Skulltulas. The floor was layered with the bone coloured arachnids. What a fool. She should have realised that they would not leave this area unprotected. One of the creatures jerked towards. Instinctively, she moved backwards. And stepped into thin air.  
  
  
  
Zayna had no time to register the shock as she saw the wall spinning past her at dizzying speed. The moat hurtled towards her, dark and menacing, as the wind whistled through her hair. She pressed the activation switch on the hookshot and heard the chain whirr out. The spike caught on something and she felt her arm tear from its socket from the force. She bit down on her tongue to prevent her from screaming out. Crashing into the wall, she tasted blood in her mouth.  
  
  
  
Zayna had to move fast, despite the pain and the wooziness. Using the hookshot as an anchor, she pushed against the wall with her legs and glided outwards. Arm still throbbing, she peered downwards to see that she was still hovering over the moat.  
  
  
  
She swung back towards the wall and, when she reached it, pushed out again. This time she arced wider and saw grass below her. This was it. The wall loomed towards her as the momentum brought her back. Tensing her leg muscles, she gave one final push.  
  
  
  
She watched the moat drift slowly under her, the waves floating lazily. She heard the gentle sound of running water. Then she caught the flash of green. Releasing the hookshot, she fell to the ground, hitting her head and sending needles of pain up her arm.  
  
  
  
Zayna stood slowly, gingerly holding her arm. She smiled sourly to herself. Another day, another great escape.  
  
*  
  
  
  
The party galloped out of Kakariko Village into Hyrule Field. Link felt the warmth of the sun on his back and the wind in his face. His heart soured. Just to be doing something made him in high spirits. Chitz bounced up and down behind him, snoozing away. They were headed towards Lon Lon Village to keep the tryst he had made with Fran.  
  
  
  
The previous night had been Darunia's funeral. The Gorons had buried their Big Brother in a cavern deep in the mountain as lava flowed around them and dropped from the ceiling. It had been a grim night and Zelda had wept uncontrollably.  
  
  
  
He flicked a glance over at the Queen now. She galloped ahead of the rest of them like she was driven by otherworldly forces. The expression on her face frightened him. The hardness of the lines of her face, the intensity in her eyes and the straightness of her mouth. Something stirred within him and all of a sudden he was gripped by the intense desire to do something, anything to make her feel happy.  
  
  
  
The feeling of helplessness now soured his mood. He looked at her again and she surprised them all by coming to an abrupt halt. He pulled on his reins and gazed at her quizzically.  
  
  
  
"Chizan, how quickly could you get a small force into Hyrule?" she asked the Prince.  
  
  
  
The Prince stroked the head of his horse as he considered the question. "A small force should pose no problem. The only difficulty would be how to hide our .. ah ..distinctive features."  
  
  
  
She gave a small nod and her face frowned in thought. Link had been told that Hyrule and the Freelanders were now at war. What he could not fathom out was why. He had tried asking his friends, but they had given him vague answers. It seemed to him that they were avoiding the issue.  
  
  
  
"What are you scheming, Your Highness?" asked Tyron.  
  
  
  
She smiled at the old man and so genuine was the emotion behind it that Link could not help but smile along too.  
  
  
  
"I am not 'scheming'," she said, her tone between a scold and amusement. "Tyron, you remember what happens every third week at the castle?"  
  
  
  
"Yes, the trade caravan comes from three countries. Loaded with spices, gold and silk. Quite the event."  
  
  
  
"What of it?" asked Chizan, puzzled. "You wish to go and trade?"  
  
  
  
Link understood. "You plan to attack the caravan, don't you?" he asked. He felt a hint of pride. She had changed a lot, but was still capable of pleasantly surprising him.  
  
  
  
She grinned at him and her eyes sparkled. "Well said, Link. Yes, most of Cyle's wealth comes from that caravan. We hit that but once and it will hurt him." Her tone hardened slightly. "Hurt him a lot."  
  
  
  
Link chuckled. "Wonderful. Can't wait to see his face. Take that, fiend!" He drew his sword and started thrusting it theatrically. Zelda giggled and he grinned at her.  
  
  
  
"Patience, Hero," said the Prince. "It would be a difficult task, Your Highness. Much planning would need to be undertaken."  
  
  
  
"Difficult, but not impossible," said Zelda. "But if you do not wish to do it, you do not have to. I can ask the Morolaks or," she turned to Link and winked at him with a smile. "I'm sure the Hero of Time could lead an assault party at a moment's notice."  
  
  
  
"The Freelanders are more than willing to carry out this task," said Chizan, his voice steely. Link was mildly amused at his discomfort. He also felt slightly relieved that Zelda was a little bit more animated now.  
  
  
  
They appeared out of seemingly nowhere, somersaulting out from behind rocks and from trees. Caught by surprise, the group huddled together. Link still had his sword in his hand and he pushed his horse forward a bit so that his sword would be between Zelda and the newcomers. She already had her hand on the hilt of her sword anyway.  
  
  
  
"Halt," one of the men said. Their clothes were tattered, their faces were half covered and they wore dirty red bandanas on their heads. More of them moved out of their hiding places. Link glanced around, taking a quick headcount. Fifteen. Some carried spears; others carried rusted but sharp swords. All looked menacing, their eyes devoid of mercy.  
  
  
  
"You are no longer allowed to pass, Your Highness," the man continued.  
  
  
  
Link heard Zelda gasp. "You know who I am?"  
  
  
  
There was a smirk in the man's eyes. "Yes, I do. The Queen and her Freelander paramour." He spat at the horses' feet. "You have all been marked for death."  
  
  
  
Link felt the anger pumping in tune to his heartbeat. Paramour? What lies were these? The man would pay for uttering such dishonourable accusations.  
  
  
  
They all got off their horses as the mercenaries closed in around them. Chitz, awoken by all the fuss, scampered under Epona to hide. Link glanced at Zelda. She looked back, a ghost of a smile on her face.  
  
  
  
All four of them readied their weapons. 


	14. So Near and Yet, So Far

Chapter 13  
  
  
  
"Nasty little wound you got there."  
  
  
  
Zayna looked up to see the cool, narrowed eyes of the farmer regard her as the cart lurched from side to side. She had hitched a ride as soon as dawn had broken and now sat surrounded by hay, her feet fidgeting impatiently on the dirt encrusted wooden floor.  
  
  
  
There were two of them, one riding the horse at the front; the other one sat facing her chewing on something that made his mouth and teeth turn black. His hair was greying and his unfriendly face had not been shaved in a long while. Rolls of fat spilled out over his belt. All in all, a pretty unpleasant person.  
  
  
  
"I fell off a horse," she said simply. Her arm was in a makeshift sling now. After she had made her way from Market Town, she had popped her arm back into place. The pain had been excruciating and made her feverish just thinking about it. Perhaps she had passed out, but she could not remember.  
  
  
  
"Aye, a horse," the man said, licking his lips. She did not like the way he was looking at her. He stiffened as she drew her sword with her healthy arm. Giving him a meaningful glance, she started cleaning the sword, running her finger along the sharp edge. The man relaxed a little, but she hoped he had gotten the message.  
  
  
  
"We travel to Lon Lon Village, you say?" she asked.  
  
  
  
"Aye," he said. "Won't be long now. Given the way old Sean is pushing the poor horse we'll be there in, oh, a few hours." He chuckled.  
  
  
  
She gave a small nod, then turned her head away slightly indicating that she no longer wanted to talk. After a moment, the man seemed to take the hint and looked over his shoulder to talk to Sean.  
  
  
  
Zayna idly flicked off bits of dust from her blade as it lay on her lap. Lon Lon Village. Still way too far from any port, she sighed. She would have to get another ride at the village, or maybe work a few days and buy herself a used horse. And then ...?  
  
  
  
She pressed her lips together and looked up. Far ahead of her in the distance she could faintly make out the shapes of huts and other wooden structures. The man had been right. Not too far to the Village. Her options were limited after that. From her time in the Market Town, she had brought herself up to date on the delicate political situation. The four allied nations with Hyrule were obviously unsafe places for her. That left the Morolak Kingdoms and the Freelander Emirate. She could not quite understand what the situation was with the Morolaks.  
  
  
  
She cleared her throat to get the man's attention. He looked back towards her, surprised that she had resumed communication.  
  
  
  
"Say," she said, trying to keep her voice between mild interest and casualness. Inwardly, she hissed at herself. It just made her voice sound suspicious. "What is the situation with the Morolak Kingdoms? Are they our allies?"  
  
  
  
The man chewed slowly. For a moment she thought she had asked the wrong question and she waited, listening to the horses' hooves tap on the stone path below.  
  
  
  
"That horse must have kicked you in the head too," he said unkindly. "Skulljack was here not two weeks ago. A fine man he is." The man absentmindedly rubbed his over large belly. "The treaty was signed. They're our allies, but they've not committed to the war yet."  
  
  
  
"Why is that?"  
  
  
  
The man shrugged. "Dunno, lassie. Could be it's too soon. The ink hasn't yet dried on the treaty scroll yet and they're expected to send an army? They'll probably join later if things get a wee too nasty." He paused. "Which it won't, of course. We'll kick those accursed Freelanders to the Pit thrice over."  
  
  
  
For some reason, Zayna's mind drifted to her mother and the day she had told her about her destiny. She remembered her mother's kind eyes telling her sadly about the legend of the Key and the Gate. She had shuddered when she was told about the Joining. Little Zayna had thought that it was a strange and scary fairytale.  
  
  
  
"There will be much bloodshed at that time. Husband against wife. Brother against sister."  
  
  
  
Her mother's quiet words echoed in her head. They had chilled her then and still chilled her now. It was after those words had been spoken that her mother had told her that Zayna was the Key.  
  
  
  
She brought herself back to the present. Clearly, the Freelander Emirate would be in too much turmoil for her to flee to. Briefly, she wondered whether that turmoil would be enough for her to remain inconspicuous. She chewed on the thought then knew that she would not be physically safe there. The Morolak Kingdom it was then.  
  
  
  
For a moment, she wished that she did not have to do this alone. She had been counting on Link's help and was hoping he would accompany her. It was a foolish plan. He trains her and then she spends the rest of her life fighting shadows waiting for the King and his Advisor to die?  
  
  
  
Zayna shook the thought away. She was the Key. She needed no one else.  
  
  
  
*  
  
This was not going well.  
  
  
  
Amazingly, five of the mercenaries had fallen, coating the dust-covered ground with crimson. That still left ten though and Link and his friends were tiring. Tyron was the worse off, his clothes torn and hanging in strips. His silver hair was now darkened scarlet and he took cover behind a boulder trying to catch his breath.  
  
  
  
Some of the mercenaries held back and waited while their fellows engaged them. Chizan was taking on three at the same time; his whole body now bristling with sharp, silver weaponry. Link wondered how he managed to move so swiftly with all that weighing him down. Judging from the attention he got, the mercenaries obviously considered Chizan the greatest threat, Link realised with a sour feeling.  
  
  
  
He saw sunlight glint off of metal as a blade swung down towards him. Link thrust his sword upwards to block the strike. The weapons crossed with a hollow clang. His arm vibrated from the impact. He was tired and the wound on his arm had reopened. The sun was hot on his face and his own sword now shimmered with blood. He caught his blurry reflection in the steel and saw that the scar on his forehead had split again.  
  
  
  
Muscles aching, Link felt himself be pushed backwards by the snarling mercenary. The man opened his mouth as he shoved Link on. Saliva fell from the man's mouth and Link saw that he had no teeth.  
  
  
  
The sound of metal on metal rang out over Hyrule Field. Link's eyes felt heavy from exhaustion. Every muscle felt like a painful knot. No Teeth's sword edged minutely closer to his face. Link tried to push forward, to drive No Teeth's blade back. He shook from the effort and saw the mercenary's arm and hand muscles tighten and quiver as he stood his ground.  
  
  
  
No Teeth gave a sharp shove with his sword. Link felt himself back into something. He glanced over his shoulder quickly. It was Zelda, facing away from him.  
  
  
  
She had her sword stretched out in front of her keeping a spearman at bay. He could feel her warmth through his back and could even feel the rapid shudder of her heart beating. Her sweat soaked hair tickled at his ear and for one ridiculous moment he just wanted to rest here, back to back.  
  
  
  
"Just like old times, Your Highness," he said through gritted teeth.  
  
  
  
"Now I remember why I preferred life in the castle," she said.  
  
  
  
No Teeth was gaining on him. Link's sword was being pushed back, back, back until the Hero could see nothing but the edge. Suddenly, he felt Zelda's back tense behind him.  
  
  
  
"Say, Link," she said, her voice whimsical. Strange considering the circumstances. "Do you remember the Battle of Horest Den?"  
  
  
  
The Hero's mouth split into a grim smile. "Why, yes I do"  
  
  
  
"On three, Hero of Time?" she whispered.  
  
  
  
"On three, Your Highness."  
  
  
  
"One .. Two ..,"  
  
  
  
"Three!"  
  
  
  
Link dropped to the ground. Zelda twirled around in a blur. In an instant she had one foot planted on Link's crouching form and, using his back as a springboard, she fluidly swung her other leg up to crack into No Teeth's shocked face. The mercenary had initially begun to fall forwards from the momentum and now his head jerked back with a snap.  
  
  
  
The Hero of Time swung his sword around in a wide arc as the Queen landed in a cloud of dust. His sword sliced through the spearman's legs making him howl in pain.  
  
  
  
As he fell away, another mercenary instantly replaced him growling with rage. The man brought his sword down towards Link. The Hero froze. There was no time to block the blow. Sunlight flashed off the blade as it flew down.  
  
  
  
Zelda was there in a heartbeat. Her thrust deflected the blade and pierced the man's gut. He fell to the ground with a gurgle.  
  
  
  
Link looked up at the Queen. Momentarily, their eyes locked and he felt the spark of some sort of connection.  
  
  
  
Just like old times.  
  
  
  
Then she turned away as another attack came.  
  
  
  
"Tyron," she called. "We need to get out of here."  
  
  
  
He was still behind the boulder, weakly fending off a swordsman. Link leapt over to him, twirling his sword. He plunged the weapon into the mercenary's neck.  
  
  
  
"Do you have the strength?" she asked, her voice concerned.  
  
  
  
"I will try," Tyron answered.  
  
  
  
Link stood in front of him, swinging his sword to keep the other mercenaries from attacking. There were still six of the bandits left and most of them still looked fresh. Zelda was right. If they did not get out of here now, they would be killed here. And Cyle would have won.  
  
  
  
Tyron raised his arms and spoke something incomprehensible. Dust swirled around his feet and Link felt the temperature drop rapidly. His vision cracked like a broken mirror, then went black.  
  
  
  
He awoke to see the sun hang in the blue sky. Confused, he looked around. Everyone was here. Chizan, Tyron, Chitz, the horses and Zelda. Everyone except the mercenaries.  
  
  
  
He was surprised to hear the sound of voices float towards him. Looking around, he saw that they had materialised just outside Lon Lon Village.  
  
  
  
Link looked back to his friends. They were coated in blood and their faces were wrinkled with tiredness.  
  
  
  
Tyron's eyes had gone completely white. He dropped to his knees, then collapsed in exhaustion.  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
Zayna entered The Queen's Ring tavern and was hit by a wall of voices; singing, shouting, whispering. Smoke drifted across the room and somewhere some music played. Bizarrely, she thought she could make out the sound of a cucco clucking away in one corner. She had found the tavern in a back alley of the less crowded part of Lon Lon Village.  
  
  
  
She walked straight to the counter. She had no time to waste.  
  
  
  
"What'll it be?" the tavernkeeper said smiling, while he wiped a mug with a cloth.  
  
  
  
"Information," she answered simply.  
  
  
  
The 'keeper raised an eyebrow, but kept his smile in place. "Ah .. well, that'll cost ye extra."  
  
  
  
Zayna scowled. "I don't have much money."  
  
  
  
The 'keeper shrugged. "Well, that's just too bad, isn't it?" He paused to chew at the inside of his cheek. "You have enough money to buy a drink right?"  
  
  
  
She hissed in exasperation. "Yes, yes," she said, annoyed. "Just .. just give me some .. oh, I don't know .. milk!"  
  
  
  
The 'keeper snorted. "Plenty o' that here." He turned around to reach for the bottle of creamy white liquid. He cocked his head slightly to glance back at her. "What kind o' information were ye looking for?"  
  
  
  
Zayna felt the relief flow. He was going to talk after all. "I need to know where the nearest port is," she said. "And I need to know how to get there. Fast."  
  
  
  
"Fast, is it?" he said, sliding the drink across to her. "Where you headed?"  
  
  
  
"What's it to you?"  
  
  
  
The 'keeper did not react. "Well, if you want information, you might try being a little nicer."  
  
  
  
Zayna kept her face still. Now was not the time to go exploding in anger. "I am sorry."  
  
  
  
He gave a little shrug. "Besides, if I knew where you were going I could point you in the direction of a port that would get you there faster."  
  
  
  
She saw the logic of this. "Right, right," she said thoughtfully. "I'm heading for the Morolak Kingdom."  
  
  
  
"Not joining the war effort then?" he asked, looking her up and down. "You seem well prepared for a fight."  
  
  
  
"Well, we're in dangerous times now, aren't we?" she said. "It's good to be equipped."  
  
  
  
"Aye, 'tis true," he replied. He rolled his tongue under his bottom lip, thinking. "You want to be heading to Galvinda port. Won't take a day to get there. You can use one of my horses, if ye like."  
  
  
  
Zayna looked up feeling suspicious. "Why would you do such a thing?"  
  
  
  
"Well, in exchange for that fancy little hookshot you got there," he said, nodding at her belt. "Don't get many o' those around here. And I don't have time to go to Market Town to buy one. Besides, they're very dear."  
  
  
  
She considered it for a moment. She had bought the hookshot just so she could get over the wall at the town. She did not need it no longer.  
  
  
  
"Done."  
  
  
  
"Pleasure doing business with ye."  
  
  
  
Zayna gave a small nod and took her drink to find somewhere to sit. She chose a dark corner with an empty table. The table was stained with all sorts of strange liquids. She did not want to think about what some of them may be. Putting on her hood again she rubbed her finger around the rim of the mug. She could be out of here within the hour.  
  
  
  
She looked up as a group of four walked into the tavern. They were more heavily cloaked than she was. She could not see their faces, but their posture gave away the tiredness they felt. They were covered in bandages torn from cloth. Zayna wondered what they had been through.  
  
  
  
"No, you stay out there," one of them said. She peered at the entrance and saw an unhappy looking Imp kicking up dust as he sulked away.  
  
  
  
She turned her attention back to her drink. It did not matter who they were. It was none of her business.  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
They huddled around the table, their voices hushed. The table rocked at the slightest touch. Link guessed that one of the legs must be out of balance.  
  
  
  
"You want us to raid the caravan?" he asked, looking at Zelda.  
  
  
  
She nodded. She opened her mouth to speak, but Tyron interrupted. "My dear, that's madness. We were well beaten today. We cannot attack an entire caravan ourselves."  
  
  
  
The Old Man of Hyrule castle sounded tired and weak. Link knew that using magic was an immense strain on any person. Those skilled in the art only used it as a last resort. Zelda also had limited magical power, but she preferred using her mind and her martial ability. Link smiled to himself. Her old deceased nanny, Impa, had taught her well in that latter regard.  
  
  
  
"I think a small force would be more effective than a large army," she said. "Stealth would be more important than lots of muscle."  
  
  
  
"Your Highness, you move too fast," Prince Chizan said. "We should wait until we get to the Morolak Kingdom before we make such plans."  
  
  
  
"I move swiftly because time is short," she answered, her voice sounding slightly annoyed. "If what Link says is true, then Cyle has the Key already. He could open the Gate at any moment."  
  
  
  
"Opening the Gate is one thing," the Prince replied in his usual calm manner. "But he cannot start the Joining until he conquers this world."  
  
  
  
"I realise that," Zelda said. "But what's to stop him from opening the Gate early? Perhaps he's mad enough to think he can attack both worlds. If we strike now we can distract him while Link finds the Key."  
  
  
  
Link sighed. He really had no clue where Zayna was at all. It was just instinct that told him she was at the castle. From what he had heard of this Chalance Vance, it was clear that the Demon Riders must be in league with him. He still did not know what he would do when he found the Key anyway.  
  
  
  
His eyes drifted around the tavern. Men laughing. Women chatting to one another animatedly. Serving girls scowling at unruly customers. Did they realise how close they were to death? Not just from Cyle's scheming. But just from living day to day. He glanced at some lonely soul sitting in a dark corner with a hood covering their features before turning back to his friends. Where could Zayna be in this land? Was she even still in Hyrule?  
  
  
  
"We should take things one step at a time," Tyron said. "First - we need to find a passage to the Morolak Kingdoms."  
  
  
  
"I can ask around," Link said.  
  
  
  
Zelda nodded in response.  
  
  
  
Chizan cleared his throat. "I would still like to accompany you, Your Highness."  
  
  
  
"And why would you want to do that?" Link asked. He had tried to keep the ice out of his tone, but failed.  
  
  
  
There was an awkward silence. The Prince and the Hero looked at each other, the tension palpable in the air.  
  
  
  
"She needs to be kept safe," Chizan said.  
  
  
  
Link kept his gaze on him. "She seemed to be able to take care herself just fine today."  
  
  
  
He heard Zelda sigh and he looked at her, catching her rolling her eyes. "Link," she said with a smile. "Get us some drinks, please. And see if you can find out anything about any safe ports."  
  
  
  
Link nodded and stood, clearly not feeling happy. He walked to the counter and sat on a stool there. Two men besides him were talking. He was not paying attention until he caught the word 'Freelander' and so he concentrated on the duo, trying to shut out all other noise.  
  
  
  
"Did you hear? Caught in her bedroom with the Freelander!" one of them was saying with a chuckle.  
  
  
  
Link found that strange. What Freelanders would be here in Hyrule now, bar the Prince himself?  
  
  
  
"Aye," the other man said. "Would never have expected it from someone such as her. All high and mighty an' all."  
  
  
  
So some noblewoman had been caught with a Freelander? That was even more curious. Despite his dislike for the Prince, Link grudgingly admitted that the Freelanders lived by a righteous code of honour. What was it about the Prince that bothered him then?  
  
Link shifted in his seat to listen more closely. His cheeks burned slightly as he did so. There was little honour in listening in on someone else's conversations. And yet, a small childish part of him wanted to hear about the oh-so-perfect Freelanders brought down a notch or two.  
  
  
  
"The Queen and the Freelander Prince! Sounds like one of those low brow plays they have at the theatre," the first man said.  
  
  
  
Link's soul was sickened as he froze at the words. What were they saying? Zelda and Chizan? His heart shivered in an anxiety he did not quite understand. He realised that the mercenary had said something similar too. Is that way they had not told him about the causes of the war? Was the war because of this?  
  
  
  
He tried to still the nauseous feeling at the pit of his stomach. What did it matter if they were together? What was it to him? She had rejected him once before, all he had to do was put it behind him. Link felt slightly calmer at this thought. He was a grown man now. He did not have to fret over other people's feelings. And yet another part of him was cracking under the disappointment he felt from hearing the words.  
  
  
  
"What'll it be?" the tavernkeeper said, snapping him out of his reverie.  
  
  
  
Link shook his head slightly to clear his mind. He had a task to do and he had to stick to it. What was it again?  
  
  
  
"Ah .. yes," Link said, as it came back to him. "I was actually looking for some information."  
  
  
  
The tavernkeeper's lip twitched. A strange reaction, thought Link.  
  
  
  
"Oh really?" he said, waiting.  
  
  
  
"Yes. I need to know how to get to a port so my friends can sail to the Morolak Kingdom."  
  
  
  
The tavernkeeper cocked an eyebrow and looked at Link coolly. The Hero of Time was getting a little frustrated. What was wrong with this fellow?  
  
  
  
"What, is it tourist season over there or something?" 


	15. Small Talk

Chapter 14

The man was droning on and on. Cyle, his head resting in one hand, idly spun a wooden ornament on the table as the Calatian representative - what was his name? Bocho? Bocko? Boka! That was it - talked in a thin, nasal tone. Boka's voice seemed to resonate through the King's head like that infernal humming in the Temple of Time.

"And so," he was saying. "I am certain that you will be well pleased with our performance. Our ships are standing by just outside Freelander territory, waiting for your mighty Hylian fleet to join us. Together, we will pulverise the pathetic little mutants once and for all." He paused to give a small smile that ended up looking like a sneer. "Ah, of course, Your Royal Highness will compensate us well, I'm sure. We Calatians would not mind claiming the Northern area of the Emirate as our own." He licked his lips. "We have heard that there are .. interesting minerals there."

Triforce, this man could talk! Cyle kept one eye on Boka as he continued to spin the toy. He sensed Chalance Vance fidgeting besides him. Obviously, his Advisor was a little irritated about his liege's lack of attention. Cyle could not care less. He still had not entirely forgiven Vance for having the Key in his grasp and then letting her slip away. He resisted the urge to hiss in frustration. So close. She had been so close.

All of a sudden, the King felt tense and felt the urge to just move about. Scooping the toy up in mid-spin, Cyle stood up and made his way to the large gold-framed window of the little study room they sat in. He caught the mild looks of surprise from the other two men and ignored them.

"Minerals, you say?" said the King as Boka watched him carefully. The man had his hair slicked back with some sort of oil and wore a dark blue silk tunic lined with gold. Boka spent so much effort on his appearance it disgusted him. He was thin and muscular, but still seemed to carry himself with an almost feminine grace. Cyle wondered if the man even realised that himself. "You mean the gold?"

Boka gave a small cough. By the Pit itself, even the man's cough sounded womanly. Cyle glanced at Vance. His Advisor was blowing his now twice broken nose on a style of handkerchief he knew was popular with noblewomen around Hyrule. Cyle laid his hands on the sill and looked out the window, stifling the exasperated snort he wanted to let free. Was he surrounded by women in men's clothing?

"Ah .. I'm sure Your Highness would not mind a little mining expedition run by ourselves," Boka said carefully, spreading his hands in a conciliatory gesture. "Naturally, Hyrule would be given a substantial share of the profits."

The King gazed out the window as the sunlight warmed his face. Even surveying the land that was now all his did not satisfy the restlessness within him. The gold that shimmered around the window just seemed dull to him now. He needed to be out there doing something. He needed the Key. But, he realised with a sigh, he needed his allies too. At least for now.

"Boka, consider it a gift," he said, not turning to face the other two. "I just want the Freelanders wiped out. If you and the other nations get that done, then you can gorge yourself on all the gold in the world."

Boka looked at him with mild surprise. The Calatian glanced at Vance who was looking a little flustered himself. He had caught them both off guard. Good. They were fools if they thought they truly knew him. Boka thought him to be as shallow as himself and Vance, though he knew of his plans of Joining, thought he only sought the power to satiate some sort of lust for conquest. No. That's not what he wanted at all. At least not physical control. He wanted what Zelda had so effortlessly achieved before he had torn it away from her. He wanted people's hearts. He wanted her heart.

"Why, I thank you, Your Highness," Boka said. "I look forward to discussing plans for mining rights with your magnificent advisors."

Cyle looked straight at him now, his eyes narrowed slightly. "But only after the Freelander vermin have been wiped from our world."

Boka gave a small nod. "But of course."

The King motioned with his hand. "Dismissed."

The Calatian bowed slightly before getting up to leave.

Cyle cracked his knuckles trying to expel some of the tension he felt. He noticed Chalance Vance's gaze upon him. His Advisor waited expectantly for him to speak.

"Vance, I am impatient," he said.

"Your Highness, worry not, we will get the Key back. I have it on good authority that she was last in Lon Lon Village."

The King frowned slightly, wondering exactly how Vance had come by that information. "No, not because of the Key." He grimaced. "Well, not entirely."

"Then ..?"

Cyle sighed as a thought came to him. "I should be out there, Vance. With the soldiers, leading the way."

His Advisor swallowed as he picked his words cautiously. "Surely, you do not mean to join in with the fighting, Sire?"

The King nodded, careful not to look at him. And why not? His soul itched for something and he did not believe anything could gratify him except feeling the

rush of sword upon sword, the thud of charging horses and the elation of defeating an enemy face to face. He closed his eyes. When had he been taken with this bloodlust?

"I must protest," Vance continued. "You are far too important. You could get hurt. Killed, even."

Cyle tried to keep the sneer from his face, but failed. "Do you think I am some soft, senile ruler? Do you think I do not know how to fight?" He strode up to the sorcerer as the anger took him. "Do you think I need to be nursemaided by the likes of you?" He thrust a finger into Vance's chest.

"No, of course not ..,"

"Good. After we take one of their ports our next target is .. ?"

"Narik's Rock. We expect them to regroup there. If they fall there, the rest will be easy."

"Excellent. That is where I will lead the charge."

Vance was silent, not wanting to put into words what he was thinking.

"Besides," Cyle continued. "You'll be there to protect me."

The King had to bite down to keep himself from laughing as his Advisor's eyes almost fell out in shock.

"But .. but .. sire, I am not a fighter."

Cyle raised an eyebrow. "Maybe not. But you do have skills that I think will probably be useful in a fight. Anyway, you have a few days. Perhaps you should spend them brushing up on some sword fighting skills?"

Chalance Vance's face paled and Cyle curled his lip playfully in response. He felt in surprisingly high spirits. It would do him a lot of good to stretch his muscles. Leading his troops in war would no doubt increase his soldiers' respect for him. He was not worried about dying. He knew how good he was and felt confident in that. Besides, his guard would probably give their lives to prevent him from coming to harm. Cyle could not help but smile.

"Have my horse and armour prepared," the King said. "And spread the word that the King of Hyrule will rejoice in the spilling of Freelander blood side by side with his army."

*

This felt so good.

Zelda and Link sat around Fran Marcaster's table as the aroma of roasted meat mixed with the scent of flowers in the air. The Queen felt her whole body relax and it was partly due to their host himself. Deep wrinkles in his face told her that Fran had lived a long and, perhaps painful, life. Yet, from his twinkling eyes and jovial manner, Zelda had been put at ease and a sleepy sense of calmness hugged her heart.

"And then lil Tessa came to me and said crossly, 'But how do Cuccos carry all those babies from place to place?'" Fran said, bringing his story to an end.

"Oh, hush Papa," Tessa said, giving him a mock expression of annoyance.

Zelda grinned before sipping a spoonful of Cucco soup. The hot, creamy soup warmed her throat and made her tingle.

She thought Fran and Tessa were beautiful. Not beautiful because their features were more unique than others. No, their loveliness came from the way there were with one another. Tessa giving her Papa a little pat on the shoulder while she busied herself serving, Fran giving her a small smile while complementing her cooking, Tessa making sure her father had a cushion to lean on when he rested, Fran surprising his daughter with her favourite sweet dish, which he had bought during the day. It was all so natural to them, yet Zelda wondered if they even realised they were doing it. She felt no envy even though she had missed out on that in her own life. She just felt in awe at witnessing something so simple.

Tessa had initially given her some wary looks that she had not understood, but her demeanour had eventually softened that she soon was chatting away to the Queen like they had been friends for life. The girl talked about silly, trivial things; yet, her tone and grin were so optimistic that it was infectious.

Zelda gave a small sigh. Here, in Fran and Tessa's little house, she could lock away the years of hurt and just float in the normality of it all. Even the dull aches of her wounds no longer bothered her.

Link sat next to her, tight lipped. A change had come over the Hero and she could not quite ascertain what the cause was. He had seemed a lot more rigid since they had left the tavern and had consciously kept his distance from Prince Chizan. Sometimes, she would catch him looking at her with a troubled look on his face.

The Prince himself was wandering around the room, pausing now and then to stare at some ornament or to stroke one of the many animal pelts laying around the room or hanging from the wall. Tyron was asleep in one of the other rooms, still exhausted from earlier events. Chitz the Imp was scampering about, happy to be home, but strangely singing a mournful tune about a girl in love with someone whose heart was with somebody else.

"Tessa, get us some drinks, there's a good lass," Fran said softly. Tessa smiled and went off to the kitchen, throwing Link a surreptitious glance. That was the fifth of the evening, Zelda noted. It slowly dawned on her what was happening and now she understood the girl's earlier reaction to her.

Link had barely noticed though. Poor girl. It was almost comical, the subtle attention she was giving him while the Hero of Time was seemingly elsewhere.

"So," Fran continued with a sigh. "It isn't everyday that I get such .. distinguished guests. I'll be sure to get the extra expensive pillows out tonight. You know, the ones not made of straw." He winked.

Zelda smiled at him. "There's no need for that, Fran. I guess I've gotten far too used to silk and other fineries. It would be healthy for me to sleep like real people today."

Fran smiled back as Tessa returned, carefully carrying a platter of drinks.

"Oh, but Your Highness," Tessa said, pouting. "I thought we could both attend the festival tonight. It would be fun and I would love the company."

"Call me Zelda, Tessa," she said. A festival. Why not? She was tired, but a little merrymaking would stop her from dwelling things that would keep her up all night anyway. She grinned up at Tessa. "That does sound like fun. I'd love to come, thank you."

Tessa's face brightened and she turned to Link. "I hope you can come too, Link," she said, trying to keep her voice casual.

This time Link did look up at her. "Sure," he said, his tone light. "Is it you they are celebrating?"

Zelda raised an eyebrow at the brashness of the statement. Tessa giggled and Fran's mouth set in a tight line as if he was fuming inside. Now that she thought about it, was Link's gaze lingering for a little too long on the young woman?

She batted the thought away. This was the last thing she wanted to worry about. Not now, especially when her people needed her the most. And yet, something pulled at her heart that she could not quite identify. She still did not know where she and Link stood in regards to each other. They were now united against a common threat. But were they even proper friends?

"Ohhhh .. the paaaaaiiiin .. it shattered my braaaaaaaaain .. my heart was a messsss .. for he could not care lesssssss." Chitz sang as Chizan paced around the room.

The Freelander still irritated her with his constant overprotectiveness. Though she had to admit she was a little touched by it too. She sighed. Thoughts like this would ruin her good mood and that was something she just did not want right now. It was too soon anyway. She had been a married woman just two weeks ago. She could still taste the bitterness of that union and she was not ready for anything else just yet.

"Why won't he noticcce meeeee?" Chitz continued. "Why doesn't he careeeeeee?"

Suddenly, the Imp's tuneless voice came to a gurgling halt as Chizan's cut him off by drawing his sword.

"Stop your infernal snivelling, toad," said the Prince. "Or I will cut out your tongue."

It amazed Zelda just how much the Imp was able to ruffle the normally calm Freelander.

"I am not a toad," said Chitz indignantly as Zelda and Link tried to stifle a laugh. She looked over at the Hero, glad that there was finally some amusement on his face. He looked back with a wide grin. "I am an Imp. Toads say 'ribbit, ribbit' and Imps say .."

" .. nothing at all if they know what's good for them," the Prince finished, his tone threatening.

"Actually it's frogs that go 'ribbit'," said Fran quietly. His face was straight, but his eyes twinkled with amusement. "Chitz, go and get the beds ready for our guests."

Chitz stormed off, muttering curses as Chizan sheathed his sword. "I am going outside for a walk," said Chizan.

Fran turned to his daughter. "Perhaps the Queen and the Hero need to rest, my dear. A festival might be a bit of an inconvenience."

"No, no ..it's no inconvenience Fran, believe me. I look forward to it," said Zelda.

"I too," said Link with a nod.

Fran raised his hands to concede defeat. Zelda felt sorry for the hunter. He was risking much by having them stay here. He had been shocked when he had learned of their true identities, but some sense of duty had prevented him from refusing to help. She hoped that he had not felt forced to do so. Still. She felt a little uncomfortable as she thought of what she wanted to ask next.

"Fran," she said. Something in the tone of her voice must have alerted him, as he looked at her, his face half grave, half in expectation. "You've been really wonderful to us. You and Tessa both. I can't thank you enough."

He gave a small nod. "But you need to ask of one more favour right?"

She sighed. He had it figured already. "Yes, I do. I'm sorry."

"Ask."

"Link is going to the castle in search of .. a friend."

"The apprentice?" asked Fran, catching her off guard. Zayna was Link's apprentice? She was a little annoyed that he had not told her as he nodded to Fran.

"It's not safe for him to travel alone," she said. "You don't have to do this Fran. If you know of anyone who would just accompany him .."

"Zelda, I don't really need anyone," Link said. His voice was soft, but his throat seemed to be tightening. "I'm touched that you're so concerned, but I can do this alone."

"Nay, Link," Fran said seriously. "She speaks the truth. You go up against a dangerous enemy. It would be better if I go with you. After all, you won't mind a friend tagging along now will you?"

Link stayed silent.

"It's just that .." Fran said, looking at Tessa.

"Oh, I can come too, Papa," his daughter answered excitedly. "I'm sure I could help."

"No." His voice was surprisingly stern. "It is far too dangerous. It's just that I don't like leaving you alone here either."

Zelda cursed herself. What right did she have to drag this poor man into anything? Just because she selfishly wanted to see the Hero protected? She gazed around the room, noticing all the simple little trinkets and ornaments displayed around the house. Compared to her previous life, Fran and Tessa had nothing except each other. It was wrong of her to try and take that away from them.

"Fran, you don't have to do this," she said. "I shouldn't have asked, I'm sorry."

"There's a tavern in Market Town. It's owned by an old friend of mine. Tessa can stay there while I help Link look for his apprentice. If anything happens, then he will take care of her."

"Hush, Papa, nothing will happen," Tessa said, her voice shaking a little.

"No, Fran," said Zelda. Her mind was made up now. "Stay here with Tessa. Don't risk yourself for nothing."

"Yes, my friend," Link said. "You've done so much for me already. More than I really ever deserved."

Fran held up a hand to still the talk. "Your Highness, Link," he said, looking at both of them in turn. "I am no coward and I think I can still handle myself pretty well in a fight. Tessa, the Hero and myself will go to the Market Town. If he still needs my help when we get there, then I will leave my daughter at the tavern and join him. Otherwise, we will come home." He turned to the Hero. "Besides, how are you going to get in without the proper documents? I know someone who can .. ah .. help you in that matter." He smiled cheekily. "How does that sound, my friends?"

Zelda still did not like it. But it was as good a plan as she was going to get.

*

The fire roared as the festivalgoers danced and laughed. Link turned to look at Zelda, as they lay side by side on the damp grass. Dancing orange shadows flickered over her face and made her eyes shine. She still had that air of serenity that enhanced her beauty.

Chizan had decided not to join the party and Link had felt strangely relieved because of it. Tyron was still bedridden and Tessa and the Imp were now by the fire, clapping their hands to the tune of some local minstrel. Fran's daughter was grinning as she bounced along to the tune. Link wondered if the girl ever lost her smile. He hoped she never would.

Earlier in the night, Tessa had made him dance around the fire. He had looked silly, his head still hooded to disguise him. It had been awkward too. Fighting off a horde of Moblins? No problem. But dancing with a young girl? More evil than a thousand Ganon's. He had caught Zelda snickering at his discomfort from the corner of his eye, but he had had to admit that it felt good to let go of himself for a few moments.

"Your Highness, we leave for the castle at dawn," he said.

She continued to gaze at the fire; it's light reflecting in her eyes. "Stop calling me 'Your Highness', Link." The Queen paused as something caught in her throat. She continued, her voice a little uncertain. "We are still friends, right?"

Link uprooted some blades of grass and rolled it through his fingers, absentmindedly. "Zelda, I'm sorry for my earlier behaviour. I haven't been able to deal with things in a proper way. Guess I've been away from people for too long."

She sat up, hugging her knees. "It's okay, Link," she said softly. "This has been a strain on all of us." She shivered and looked at the sky. "I wonder what Cyle is doing now, what is he planning for us all?"

The Hero was silent for a while, before he said, "Malon would have loved this. The dancing, the partying."

She smiled. "Well, it is her home, after all."

"We underestimated her. All of us," he said sadly. "Except Cyle."

"No, we didn't." She paused. "Cyle only saw a threat. Something that stood in the way of his ambitions. We saw her for who she really was." She turned to Link with a sad smile. "A truly wonderful person."

"I wonder if she knew who she really was."

They were silent for a time and watched as the flames licked the sky. Thick, black smoke billowed, melting into the night sky. Children shrieked as their older siblings chased them. Some people broke out in a tuneless song, laughing.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you in the cavern," he said finally.

"Link, Link, Link," she said, laughing softly. Her smile warmed his heart. "Stop being sorry. I understand. It's fine. I hardly expected you to leap for joy when you saw me."

Link sighed with relief. Still, there was a doubt eating at him and he tensed, ready to ask Zelda about it.

"So," he said, hoping his voice sounded casual. The Queen looked at him, one eyebrow slightly raised. "Why exactly did Cyle go to war with the Freelanders? He can't hardly have told people that he needed to defeat them so he could open the Gate could he?"

She frowned slightly, staying silent a moment. Link waited, agonising over what her answer would be. Finally, she said, "He accused Prince Chizan of dishonouring me."

Link's heart tightened, but he had to ask, "And is it true?"

"Does it matter if it's true?"

Link was taken aback for a moment. He kept quiet, wondering if he had pushed things too far. She noticed his discomfort and her expression softened.

"No, Link, it's not true."

His whole body relaxed visibly and Zelda gave a quiet, soft laugh. He had been worrying about nothing.

"You do realise," she continued, turning to face him. "That this could be the last time we see one another."

Abruptly, they both raised their hands as their Triforce symbols tingled.

"Yes," he said with a smile. "But somehow I doubt it will be."

"Me too," she said, leaning back to rest on her elbows.

"Is your offer still open?"

"My offer?"

"You wanted a Knight. For your army."

Her expression turned serious. "Yes. But only if you want to Link."

"It would be dishonourable to refuse a damsel in distress."

She chuckled softly. "I am no damsel in distress."

"I know."

They looked at each other and laughed. Link felt all the tension drain from him and he seemed ridiculously giddy. Let Cyle come. Let him bring Ganon too if he wanted. At this moment, Link felt he could take on the whole world and win.

"Looks like your fan is calling you," Zelda said giggling. She nodded down towards the fire where Link saw Tessa beckoning to him frantically.

He got to his feet with an exaggerated sigh. "Duty calls, Your Highness."

She looked up at him, her eyes large. He saw something in them that he could not quite place. Affection? Fear? "Link, you didn't answer my question."

He brushed off the dirt and grass from his tunic as he frowned. Question? What question? He thought back a little. Oh yes.

"Yes, Zelda," he said with a grin. "We are still friends."


	16. Tunnel Vision

Chapter 15

Silence. The very air was still. There was but a tiny quiver from Link's arms as he aimed the bow. Focus. He sensed nothing around him. There was just him, his bow and the red bullseye. A drop of sweat rolled down his forehead. The drawstring was pulled back tightly and cut slightly into his fingers. The sharp metal tip was just a hair off target. He shifted ever so slightly to bring it into line. All he could see was red.

He released the arrow. It spun, chopping through the air. There was a shower of splinters as it hit home. Link peered at the target as those around him held their breath.

Dead centre.

The crowd erupted into heartfelt cheers and Link grinned. The shop owner gave him a mock bow, his face creased with half a smile.

"And this time?" the man asked.

Link motioned with his eyes towards his intended prize. The man looked at it, surprise in his eyes. With a shrug a leaned over the counter and plucked the large, fluffy Goron toy from a shelf and handed it over.

Tessa ran up to him, her face grinning. "Link, that was wonderful!" she cooed.

The Hero of Time laid one hand over his heart and presented his prize to the girl. "For you."

"Oh, but you shouldn't have," she said shyly, taking the gift anyway. The crowd cheered more loudly, and Tessa turned to give them a small wave. This time there were one or two whistles.

"Show your face, lad!" a man from the crowd called. One or two others yelled 'Aye!' and pretty soon the whole crowd were chanting for him to take his hood down.

"Uh.." Link gulped, feeling uncomfortable. He was still in his hood. They had been in Market Town for three days now and obviously he needed to be kept hidden. More so in a place like this shop, where he and Tessa had come to play the 'hit the target' game.

"Well, lad?" said the shopkeeper, placing one big, hairy hand on Link's shoulder. "Are you going to appease them or not?"

He watched the people as they stamped their feet, their faces split into grins, their eyes waiting expectantly. Link started to panic.

"If he shows his face," Tessa said in a soft voice, but loud enough so that people at the front of the crowd could catch it. "Some of the women might want to steal him away from me. And I just couldn't allow that."

Some of the people laughed, while others booed playfully. Link sighed in relief as Tessa took his hand and gently tugged him towards the door.

It was slow progress. People stopped to slap him on the back and invite him for a drink. One or two tried to snatch at his hood, but he darted his head away quickly.

A hand shot out from the crowd and gripped Link's arm in a tight vice. The Hero looked up into Fran's face, his eyes angry, his mouth set in a tight line. The hunter dragged him out into the Town Square, Tessa following sheepishly behind them.

"Link," Fran spat. "What in the name of the Pit were you thinking?"

Some people turned to look at them, but just as quickly looked away. Arguments were common in a place as crowded as this, and the people had their own worries to concern themselves with.

"I thought you realised," the hunter continued. "How important keeping a low profile was here. We do not need attention."

He was right, of course, Link realised with an embarrassed twinge. Yet, they had been cooped up in the tavern ever since they had arrived here. Hearing the laughs, shouts and just the sheer pull of the mass of humanity outside of his window had been driving him insane.

Link opened his mouth to speak. For a moment he was going to protest, to defend their actions and then he realised how childish he would sound if he did so.

"I am sorry," he said simply. "We both are."

"And well you should be," Fran growled. His tone had slightly softened though.

The day was hot and the air suffocating as they made their slow way through the throng. Fran and Tessa had decided to stay in the town after all. They had left the Imp back at the village. He would draw too much interest here.

They had decided that Link would enter the castle on his own, while Fran would wait outside. All they had to do was figure out how to get in. The fake documents they had used at the Town gate would not work for such an important place as the castle itself.

"I think," Fran said. "I've concocted a way for us to get past the guards."

"Oh?"

"Yes. We go in disguise."

Link was getting a little tired of all the masquerades, though he realised how necessary they were. "I still think my idea was better. I sneak into the palace gardens, then dodge in and out of the hedges, keeping myself just out of sight of the guards."

"Link."

"Yes?"

"That's the stupidest idea I've heard in my entire life."

Link made a face. "So what will the disguise be?"

"Oh, I don't know," Fran said, suddenly taking interest in a flock of chittering green birds flying overhead. "I thought maybe that you could go in one of Tessa's dresses."

Link halted. "What?"

Fran turned towards him, smiling as Tessa hid her

mouth behind her hand. "Think about it. They'll never suspect a girl to be the Hero of Time."

Link crossed his arms over his chest. "No."

Tessa cocked her head to one side and eyed him up and down. "I think you would look really nice in my lime green gown, Link," she said.

The Hero of Time eyed them suspiciously. Though they had smiles on their faces, he could not quite be sure if they were being serious or not. Go into the castle wearing a dress? He could just imagine himself finally crossing swords with Cyle in such a situation. His nemesis in his polished armour, Link in a flowery dress. The King would think that his five summer retreat had knocked his senses silly.

"Green you say?" said Fran, looking at his daughter doubtfully. "I would have thought he'd be sick of that colour by now."

Tessa nodded, musing. "How about pink then?"

"Enough!" Link cried, throwing up his arms as the father and daughter clutched each other laughing. "What am I really wearing, Fran?"

The hunter wiped tears from his eyes before saying, "They're preparing for the trade caravan at the castle. We can go in as a pair of merchants. Animal skins are always popular there. Lucky for you that I always carry some samples around with me." He gave an exaggerated wink. "You never know when you might find a customer so I'm always prepared."

"And documentation?"

"I can get some prepared from a friend." Fran was friends with a couple of disgruntled ex-royal guards who had handled enough official scrolls in their lives that they could reproduce a fairly accurate one effortlessly. "He'll give us the proper attire too."

Link nodded and they continued walking.

"How do plan to find your apprentice?" asked Fran in a hushed voice.

The Hero still was not certain where Zayna was. But he did not want to let Fran know that. He had embarrassed himself enough with the target game.

"I guess she'll be in the dungeons," Link said. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the Temple of Time in the distance. The imposing grey building brought back uneasy memories for the Hero. Somehow, it looked different, even though Link realised that it had not been altered for many summers. At least, not physically. "That's where I'll look first."

Fran nodded. "Then let's get prepared."

"Right," said Link, happy to have something to aim for. "Let's do it."

*

Finally, Zayna could relax. She lay on the bed of her cabin as the ship gently swayed from side to side and slowly closed her eyes. She heard the shouts from the sailors outside as they readied the vessel for launch.

This had been a lucky break. She had driven the horse to exhaustion as she had ridden like a poe possessed woman. Eventually she had set sight on Galvinda port. The busy little coastal town had been overrun with a rush of people trying to get last minute supplies and trades before all civilian traffic was closed.

She had spent a couple of frantic days searching for a suitable craft. They were either all full or were taking only freight. Or they simpler were not heading for the Morolak Kingdom. At last she had found the Fountain's Wings, an old, overloaded little ship. She had looked at it doubtfully. The wood was blackened in some places and it looked ready to sink. Still, they had been willing to take her on. No questions asked too. She knew wouldn't get a better offer before the port closed.

The only problem had been her lack of funds. After spending her last few rupees on a healing potion to fix her arm, she had worked one night at the Queen's Ring tavern in Lon Lon and had done a few odd jobs while in Galvinda. Simple stuff, really. Delivering messages between captains, helping haul crate onto freighters. Her arm was still sore and stiff, but she had managed. She still had not made enough for a long distance trip though, so the captain of the Fountain's Wings agreed to take her on so long as helped with the ropes now and then. Despite having too many passengers and too much cargo, he was understaffed and needed the help.

Zayna shifted onto her side and opened her eyes. She felt very tired, but knew sleep would not come. Her mind was still tense, anxious to be leaving Hyrule once and for all. She looked around the small cabin. It pretty much matched the general condition of the entire ship. There was just one small table and an oil lamp, burned black from too much use. The floor and walls were bare. The wood on the window side had stretched and now had small cracks that let in the cold, sea breeze. She was used to not living in luxury, so it did not bother her too much.

Her thoughts turned to Zelda. When Zayna had been but ten summers old, her mother had wrapped she in too many clothes and gave her a bag filled with supplies. Together they had walked to the castle, her mother wheezing from the effort. She had been sick, the skin around her eyes had grown taut and she had had trouble speaking. Little Zayna had been scared for her, but had held on tightly to her hand, feeling secure.

When they had reached the castle gates, her mother had fell to her knees, vomiting. She had pushed the little girl towards one of the guards, who looked at them with a confused expression.

"To the Queen," her mother had gasped. Zayna had tried to hold on to her hand, but it slipped from her fingers as life left her. To this day, she still did not know what had killed her.

The guard had panicked, faced with a dead woman and her weeping daughter. Zayna had been inconsolable. The guard did the only thing he could and took Zayna to the Queen. Of course, the Queen back then was Zelda's mother. The Princess was little more than five summers older than her.

The Queen had looked at her with kind, sad eyes and decided to take her in. In time, she had learnt to accept her mother's death, although the dull pain was still there in one corner of her heart even now. She grew up in the castle, living with the other maids. From time to time she played with Zelda and when the Princess had reached her twentieth year, Zayna had been allowed to become one of her sub-Advisors. She knew that she was never Zelda's favourite, but the Queen-to-be had always treated her kindly and they spent quite a bit of time together, playing with each other's hair or, during more serious times, sparring with one another under Impa's guidance.

The relationship had not changed when Cyle Narawan had appeared on the scene, but Zayna had taken an instant disliking to the man. He kept asking her personal questions and sometimes she would catch him as his gaze lingered on her. Initially, she thought it was just a sickness he had, but now she realised that he was interested in her because he knew what she truly was.

That puzzled her though. How had he known? She felt a chill as the next thought came to her. And if it's possible for him to know, then who else also knows?

She was dismayed when she came to learn of Zelda's engagement. Despite her title, the Princess had not asked Zayna for her advice. Nor did she really expect her to. The Advisor whose advice was not needed, she thought with a sour smile.

Still, like everyone else around her, Zayna could not help but feel an affectionate bond with her mistress. She wondered about her now. The Queen was obviously on the run, a fugitive in her own land. More than likely she would join with the Freelanders, since the war was being waged with them.

Although she knew Zelda could take care of herself, she felt a little sad for her. Growing up, the Princess had always been a happy, optimistic child. Though she was sometimes disturbed by prophetic dreams, she still managed to not let herself be dragged down. After the initial joy of her marriage had worn off, the now-Queen had slowly been worn down, as if her earlier personality was been chipped away from her bit by bit. She had become harder, both in her features and her character until she had eventually withdrawn from life for two whole summers.

Zayna sighed. She wondered where Zelda was now.

*

Zelda was not pleased.

She tried to keep the scowl from her face as they waited in line to board the ship. Chizan and Tyron shifted uncomfortably beside her. Waves gently splashed against the pier, spraying them all with salty water. Zelda squinted up at the ship as the sun shone brightly in the sky. It wasn't much and looked like it should have been put out of service at least five summers ago. At least no one would guess that royalty would travel on such a craft.

Ahead of them in the queue were all sorts of different people. Some clothed in rags, some dressed a little finer. There were those whose faces were fearful and lined with misery. Other carried themselves with a lighter posture, smiling and keen to be off. So many of her people and yet, Zelda knew she would never know them all, never share in all their hurts and their joys. But she did know that she had been born into a privileged position and that entailed her to look out for their well-being.

Yet, did they really want her to look out for them? What if they resented her for mothering them? Zelda frowned and wondered where that thought had popped up from.

Sunlight flashed off of the boat's nameplate and the Queen leaned forward on her toes to read it. The Fountain's Wings. That made no sense at all. Fountains had no wings. Fairy Wings would have been better. Then again, she guessed a lot of men would be wary of being caught on a ship called the Fairy Wings. She smiled despite herself, but it was only for a moment.

She turned to the Prince who was doing his best to avoid eye contact. "For someone so supposedly noble," she said. "That was a pretty deceptive trick you pulled."

She saw Tyron wince at the words. He still looked slightly tired, but he was a lot more mobile now and that relieved her. She realised that her words went against everything she had been taught about diplomacy, but her irritation had overridden her good sense.

"There was no deception I assure you, Your Highness," Chizan said, still not looking at her. "I was certain I would be able to hire a small boat and travel home. I absolutely had no idea that I had not brought enough funds for such a venture."

"Mm-hmmm," the Queen said disbelievingly. She had enough rupees for an overseas voyage. But only if it involved one trip and one ship. "So now you have no choice but to travel with me it seems."

"Yes, it appears that way," he said. There was no hint of dishonesty in his voice and or a moment Zelda wondered if he really had made a genuine mistake.

"Do not worry," he continued. "My guards will notify my people. They will be ready for an attack." She briefly I wondered why his guards could afford a boat when he couldn't, but decided to let the matter drop.

They fell silent and the Queen found her thoughts drifting to her one time Advisor as she watched the gulls float over the ship. She knew little about Zayna except that she had been left at the castle gate when she was little like in some fairy tale. When she was younger, Zelda had been taken by the idea that Zayna was really some exotic Princess from some far off land. When she got older that fable passed, but she did often wonder how and why Zayna had been left there.

She had liked her. Not as much as she had liked Mina and Impa, but she still was fond of Zayna. The girl, even though she was given to bouts of sullenness and temper tantrums, had a wilfulness about her that Zelda had admired.

Cyle had asked so much about her that Zelda had once felt jealous. She had often puzzled over his queries. He did not ask about what her Advisor wore or what she looked like or what her personality was like. He often asked about her mannerisms and about her background or if she had noticed anything 'strange' about her. It had been bizarre back then, but was perfectly clear now. She frowned. Or was it? How exactly had Cyle known what to look for?

She felt the Freelander tense besides her and she looked up to see what the problem was. Appearing off in the distance was a line of ships; black, menacing and covered with armour plating and cannons. People in the town stopped and stared and the temperature seemed to drop a notch. The Hylian Fleet was setting sail.

They shuffled forward and a sailor confronted them holding a quill and a scroll.

"Destination?" he said in a gruff voice.

"The Morolak Kingdom," Tyron said.

The man did not bat an eyelid and scribbled down the information. "Any cargo?"

"No"

"You'll be wanting one room then?" he said, letting his gaze pass over the three of them.

"No," said Zelda. "Two rooms. One for myself. One for my companions."

The sailor chewed on something then spat it out. "That'll cost extra," he said, staring at her.

"Not a problem," she replied, holding his gaze.

He looked at her for a moment longer, then gave a small shrug. He turned away letting them pass. Zelda marched up the ramp, sighing with relief. She was eager to see Duchess Toriya again. The Queen hoped that her friend could assist her. The plan to raid the caravan was still at the back of her mind, but seeing the Hylian navy had brought home how urgent the situation was. And how real.

The Queen just hoped that Link could find the Key in time. As she walked onto the deck, she gazed into the distance. She wondered what Zayna was doing right now.

*

Link's boots squeaked on the polished marble floor as the castle's massive door closed behind him. The guards had fallen for the ruse and now he was in. Fran waited outside holding his hookshot and boomerang. Although, they allowed him to carry weapons he did not want to be too weighed down. They did not expect him to go beyond the Main Hall where all the other traders and merchants were gathered. On his arm he carried a selection of animal skin samples Fran had given him.

Stalls were set out in rows throughout the Hall as merchants called out prices and offers. The murmur of voices reverberated throughout the colossal room. The Hero of Time idly wandered down the pathways pretending to be interested in the items for sale. Once or twice he would gingerly pick something up, give it a once over, then put it back.

He knew the castle well. Piped throughout the building were many ducts, used by the workers to conduct repairs and to move from one place to another as quickly as possible. When he was a regular visitor here in the past, he had spent a long time exploring those winding tunnels seeing where they would lead. He had annoyed the old King and Queen with his antics, especially as a teary eyed Zelda would go running to them complaining that Link had 'disappeared.'

Feigning interest in stalls placed further down the room, he scanned the hall for tell tale entrance chutes. The tunnels could be accessed by gently pushing at fake bricks positioned in the walls. A trained eye could spot the entrances from a distance away.

He squeezed past the merchants as they engrossed themselves in their trading. Link's eyes would rest on some merchandise as if he were pondering whether to buy it. Then he would quickly turn away, but not before he flicked his glance to the wall behind the stall searching for that tell tale crack.

The Hero was at the back of the Hall now and just as he turned to try another row, he spotted it. In one corner stood a deserted stall where there were very few people. That was good. Near the bottom of the wall the stall stood against was a slightly discoloured brick with a hairline crack running through it.

Pausing at another stall, Link bought himself an intricately carved mask. The vendor seemed relieved that Link had finally stopped dawdling and bought something. As casually as he could, he walked towards the wall. Just as he got to it, he let the mask slip from his hand and it rattled to the floor. Checking to see if anyone had noticed, Link squatted.

Link glanced left, then right. Everyone was too busy buying and selling. Swiftly, he rolled under the stall, his back still to the wall. He dropped the samples. He hoped that Fran would not mind. Again, he peered around to see if he had been noticed and then lightly tapped the brick with his boot. He felt air breath on his back as it opened. It was large enough for one crouching person, but it was thankfully obscured from view by the stall itself. Quickly and smoothly he rolled back into the dark passageway, making sure to close it after him.

The tunnel was dark and something dripped slowly in the distance. He could still hear the voices from outside, but in here they were muffled as if someone had thrown a blanket over them. He slowly crawled forwards, the floor feeling damp and gritty under his hands.

Link felt his way through the darkness trying to remember the path to the dungeons. His breath sounded too shallow and too fast. Something cold dripped onto his neck and then rolled down his back. He had no time to stop and check what it was. He only hoped it was nothing more than water.

He moved, hoping he knew where he was going. Straight here. Now left. Straight again. Right. Another right. Keep going. Hours seemed to pass and the silence coupled with the inky darkness overwhelmed him. Twice he had to keep from panicking as the sense of suffocation tightened around his throat. His heart maintained a deep, echoing rhythm as he crawled.

Occasionally, broken light from a grille would pierce the darkness. Through the grille he could see into other rooms, but he had no interest in doing that now. He had to find the dungeons. He had to find Zayna.

Other times, he was alerted to the presence of another entrance by light seeping in through razor thin cracks.

Link cursed himself, his memory failing him. He slowly waved his hand out in front of him. He should have touched the side of the tunnels, but now he stroked empty air. He had come to a crossroads. Where to next? Left? Right? Ahead? Think, man, think!

When he was young he knew these tunnels off by heart. Now, he realised with a growing sense of unease, there was a very good chance that he could get hopelessly lost. Taking in a deep breath, he decided to go left.

His fingers now felt powdery from all the gathered dust and his sword felt heavy tied to his back. He stopped for a moment to rest. Link had made yet another mistake. He had gotten too reliant on his previous experiences that he had not even bothered to plan this jailbreak out carefully. He swallowed the bitter taste away. Again, his time away had blunted his skills and senses. Link could be wandering around these tunnels for days. He croaked as he thought about the image of his badly decayed skeleton being found many summers from now.

The Hero caught the glimmer of chopped light in the distance and edged his way towards it. Another grille, looking into another room. From what he could see, this room was richly furnished. Its walls were covered with detailed oil paintings of sovereigns past. He heard voices float up from outside. Pausing, he peered through the bars.

Link's heart almost stopped. It was Cyle. The King was pacing around the room, talking to someone who he could not quite see yet. Link shifted in the tunnel trying to get a closer look. His sword scraped the roof of the duct and he froze. Trying not even to breath, he peeked into the room. No one had noticed the sound. He realised that his tunic was clinging to him now as the sweat poured.

"So, she escaped from the mercenaries?" the King was saying. His voice was half way between hope and anger.

"It seems so," a voice replied. It was soft and Link had to push his face against the metal to hear. "The Hero of Time is aiding her."

Cyle paused. "I wondered why he hadn't made his way here as planned."

A disturbed frown seemed to flicker across the King's face. Obviously, he was not pleased about the news of Link being with Zelda. Good. The Hero of Time bitterly wished that he had more space. He could have taken Cyle out with a well-placed arrow by now. He clenched and unclenched his fists as the thought of the wasted opportunity ate at him.

He cursed again. Why had he left his hookshot behind? This would have been the perfect chance to use it and it did not require so much room. He closed his eyes and regulated his breathing as he tried to calm his thoughts. There was little point in wasting energy over things he had no control over.

"Our fleet has set sail," the other said. He stepped into view and Link saw the thin, robed man for the first time. Was this the Advisor that his friends had spoken of? "They will arrive at the Emirate within a few days. We have the weight of numbers on our side. This war will not take long."

Cyle leaned back on a polished, wooden table, relaxing. "Good. Is my private ship ready?"

"Yes, my liege."

"Then let us ready ourselves for battle." He motioned with his head. "You are dismissed, Vance."

Chalance Vance. The name came to Link as he recalled the conversations he had had with Zelda and Tyron.

They both left his field of vision and Link had decided he had seen enough. Disappointingly, neither had mentioned the Key. He frowned in doubt. Did they really have her?

Link crawled onwards. He was starting to feel a little nauseous now, tired of seeing the same blackness everywhere. His muscles were locked painfully in an unnatural position and his back started to ache in protest. He resisted the urge to just stretch and let the pressure free.

He stopped, resting his head against the floor. The coolness spread across his forehead, yet it only seemed to make him feel sicker. This had been madness. It would have been a lot easier if he had gone along with Fran's joke and dressed as a woman. He could have explored the castle then without attracting too much attention. Link decided he needed to get out at the next entrance point.

He moved on, his eyes once again seeking the crack. His heart pounded. He needed to be free. Needed to see the light, he thought with a sour smile.

Something shifted under him. He hesitated. The bottom was too soft here. Before he had time to react, there was a scream of tearing metal and the tunnel opened up beneath him. He fell, his hands scrabbling in the air trying to find a hold. Light flooded his senses, piercing him to the brain and hurting his eyes.

Link hit the floor. His head spun as dark, angry blotches clouded his vision. The Hero of Time felt around him with his hands. It was a carpeted floor, that much he could tell. Nothing else would come to him until his eyesight returned.

Tentatively, he reached forwards trying to find something solid to identify. His hand closed around something smooth and cool.

A boot.

There was someone else in here.

"Well, well, well," said Chalance Vance. "Look who decided to drop in?"


	17. The Breaking

Chapter 16  
  
  
  
Darkness.  
  
  
  
"What is your title?"  
  
  
  
That voice again. Soft and quiet, yet insistent. It gnawed at him, pushing and prodding. For hours - or was it days? - it had asked him questions. The queries had settled into his very core, cutting and shredding away at his mind. He no longer knew who the voice was. But he certainly knew who he was.  
  
  
  
He braced himself.  
  
  
  
"I am the Hero of Time."  
  
  
  
His body spasmed, jerking his neck up as waves of magical energy washed over him. His head slumped, still tingling from the pain.  
  
  
  
"You are the King's slave."  
  
  
  
He gritted his teeth and spat the words out, "I am the Hero of Time."  
  
  
  
The pain soared through him, flowing through his veins, rattling his bones, tearing his muscles.  
  
  
  
"King's slave."  
  
  
  
The voice. Soft and patient.  
  
  
  
"Hero of Time."  
  
  
  
He bit down so hard to keep from shrieking out that one of his lower teeth stabbed into his gums. Blood flowed. He stank of sweat and human filth. His chains jingled slightly with every sharp, gasping breath he took.  
  
  
  
There was the thudding. He did not know where it came from. It rolled through his brain, dizzying his soul. It pounded in time with his beating heart. Apart from the voice, it was the only other thing he could hear. He could see nothing.  
  
  
  
Time had no meaning here. One minute, one hundred summers. All the same to him.  
  
  
  
He listened.  
  
  
  
Nothing, except the thumping.  
  
  
  
Thud.  
  
  
  
Thud.  
  
  
  
Thud.  
  
  
  
The voice was gone.  
  
  
  
He waited, daring not to move even the slightest notch. He hung there, lingering.  
  
  
  
Time passed. Hours? Days?  
  
  
  
Finally, he could sleep. His eyes stung from being kept open unnaturally. He had not tasted the sweet release of sleep for such a long time. He felt his body relax and his eyelids slowly shut.  
  
  
  
He screamed. The magic tore through him again. It was like a physical thing now, ramming into his face. He felt his eyelids and cheeks puff up. Tears of blood fell from his aching eyes.  
  
  
  
The voice returned.  
  
  
  
"You will not sleep."  
  
  
  
"I must."  
  
  
  
"You killed Malon of Lon Lon Ranch."  
  
  
  
"No," he said, coughing. His voice was raspy. "Cyle killed her."  
  
  
  
Another wave hit him. The darkness spun. For a moment, he thought he could make out different shades of black.  
  
  
  
"You killed her."  
  
  
  
He gasped. The voice was making him nauseous. He felt the bile rise.  
  
  
  
"No."  
  
  
  
"Yes."  
  
  
  
"No."  
  
  
  
"King's slave, you killed her. You know it. I know it. Everyone knows it. Everyone hates you for it."  
  
  
  
He tried to shake his head, but it felt like lead.  
  
  
  
The voice continued.  
  
  
  
"They hate you. They drove you away. The people hate you. Talon hates you." A pause. "Zelda hates you."  
  
  
  
"No," he whispered.  
  
  
  
"Yes. She cursed your name."  
  
  
  
"She sent messengers to check on me." Every word sent stabbing pains through his mouth and throat. Sleep. He wanted to sleep. Please, let him sleep.  
  
  
  
"How do you know she sent them?"  
  
  
  
"What?" He could not think. Fatigue weighed him down, his eyes feeling like rock. "Who else would?"  
  
  
  
"The King," the voice said. "He cares for you like he cares for all his subjects. He is the only one that cares for you. You are his slave. You will serve him, protect him from his enemies."  
  
  
  
The King? He was too tired to think. Yes, they were Royal Messengers. Either the King or Queen could send them. Thinking hurt. Sleep. Please. Sleep.  
  
  
  
Again, there was silence. Again, he waited.  
  
  
  
More time passed.  
  
  
  
Hunger bit at him. His stomach screamed for satiation. He had not eaten for as long as he had not slept.  
  
  
  
"Are you hungry, King's Slave?"  
  
  
  
The voice floated around him. Something snapped within him. He would not give the voice the satisfaction of knowing his discomfort.  
  
  
  
"No," he coughed. "I am not."  
  
  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
  
  
The smell came to him. Roasted vegetables, juicy meat, creamy soup, baked bread, sweet fruit. He could picture each one as their scent showered his face. Despite himself, his mouth watered, mixing with the blood. His gut wanted to tear out from him and devour the food.  
  
  
  
Something was ringing in his head. Something telling him he must resist.  
  
  
  
Fight.  
  
  
  
"No." His voice was barely a whisper now. As he opened his mouth a line of saliva trickled out and hung from his chin.  
  
  
  
Like an ethereal vision of beauty he saw Cyle walk up to him carrying a covered tray. His body glowed with shimmering light. With a tug he pulled the cloth away revealing a plate of honey roasted cucco and crispy, burnt potatoes. The smell brought tears to the Hero's eyes.  
  
  
  
Slowly, Cyle picked up one of the potatoes. The King's hand hovered for an instant before he pushed the food towards the Hero's mouth. His head snapped forward, straining against his bonds. His eyes focused on the potato as it moved ever so slowly towards him. Closer. Closer. Closer. The smell of freshly cooked food overwhelmed him and his body shook painfully as he openly wept. It was so close now he could feel the heat of it upon his lips. His dry, cracked tongue slipped out in preparation.  
  
  
  
"Wait."  
  
  
  
The voice again. The King's hand froze. No. He wanted to eat. Let him eat. He wanted to sleep. He wanted to cry.  
  
  
  
"Who is giving you the food, King's Slave?"  
  
  
  
The Hero looked up. Cyle's face smiled down at him. Gentle and kind. So beautiful.  
  
  
  
"The King," he croaked.  
  
  
  
"Why isn't Zelda giving you the food?" the voice asked. "If she truly loves you so."  
  
  
  
What?  
  
  
  
Tired.  
  
  
  
Zelda?  
  
  
  
Hungry.  
  
  
  
Where was she?  
  
  
  
Please.  
  
  
  
"Who killed Malon?"  
  
  
  
The voice tugged at him. Pulled him down, smothering, suffocating.  
  
  
  
"Who killed Malon?"  
  
  
  
The King's hand shifted. Now he could feel the roasted foodstuff on his upper lip. A drop of oil rolled off it and landed on his tongue. He gagged. More. He needed more.  
  
  
  
"Who killed Malon?"  
  
  
  
Please. The word echoed through his head, but he would not let it form on his lips. He would not beg.  
  
  
  
"Who killed Malon?"  
  
  
  
He imagined the hunger to be some sort of feral rodent, ripping up his insides as it begged for release. His eyes yelled at him to let them shut, to let them sleep.  
  
  
  
"Who killed Malon?"  
  
  
  
Slowly, the King moved his hand away. The smell departed.  
  
  
  
No.  
  
  
  
No no no no no no.  
  
  
  
"I did." The words sounded strange to him but somehow they made sense. His mind hurt, but he continued. "Me. It was me. I killed her."  
  
  
  
The voice did not reply. The King's hand moved back towards his mouth. His jaws aching, the Hero opened and swallowed the potato whole. It burned the roof of his mouth, but even that scorching was bliss. Like sweet, liquid gold it tumbled down his throat.  
  
  
  
He looked up. The King was gone. Darkness enveloped him again. He wanted to weep once more.  
  
  
  
Darkness.  
  
  
  
Thud.  
  
  
  
Thud.  
  
  
  
Thud.  
  
  
  
"What is your title?"  
  
  
  
That voice again. He could not think anymore. Title. What title? They were words, they were sounds. They had meaning once, an age ago. Nothing had meaning now.  
  
  
  
"Zelda loves the Freelander." The voice resonated around the chamber. "The King loves you. Only the King. Everyone else hates you for killing Malon. You were an outcast. You belonged nowhere."  
  
  
  
That was right, wasn't it? Someone had said that he was the cause of the evil. That his very existence had encouraged it. The King had said .. what? Nothing. The Hero had been sent away. Living in the desert for such a long time.  
  
  
  
Alone.  
  
  
  
All alone.  
  
  
  
So alone.  
  
  
  
"They hate you."  
  
  
  
It wasn't his fault. He wanted to help. Why didn't they understand? Why had they sent him away?  
  
  
  
"They hate you."  
  
  
  
Not fair. Not fair. Not fair.  
  
  
  
"Who fed you?"  
  
  
  
"The .. King?"  
  
  
  
Was that his voice speaking? He could no longer tell.  
  
  
  
"So who cares for you?"  
  
  
  
He knew the answer the voice wanted, but something stilled his tongue from speaking it. It just felt wrong.  
  
  
  
The air shimmered in front of him. It was Zelda. She was in someone's arms. He knew that person. A prince? Chizan? She was laughing. The Prince pointed at a painting of the Hero. They both laughed.  
  
  
  
"Who is your liege? Who cares for you?"  
  
  
  
He needed to focus. Too many questions, he could not think. He wanted to sleep, he needed to eat more. He had to concentrate on something.  
  
  
  
Something important.  
  
  
  
The Hero slowly looked up at the vision again. It had frozen, like it had been caught in time. He saw Zelda's face, smiling.  
  
  
  
Zelda.  
  
  
  
Focus.  
  
  
  
Zelda.  
  
  
  
Think.  
  
  
  
"Who cares for you?"  
  
  
  
Zelda.  
  
  
  
"Who cares for you?"  
  
  
  
Zelda. He no longer knew what the name meant. He just knew that whenever he thought about it, it made his heart surge; counteracting the words his mind begged him to say. He held onto the feeling. Bit into it with his teeth. It made him feel alive. It made him feel like he belonged.  
  
  
  
"Who cares for you?"  
  
  
  
"Zelda."  
  
  
  
Had he said it out loud? No. He shouldn't have done that. The word was the most important thing in his life now. He panicked. He did not want to give it to the voice. It was his. All his.  
  
  
  
"What did you say?"  
  
  
  
"Nothing."  
  
  
  
The vision melted into nothingness. The wave of magic hit him again, stronger this time. He let loose a deep, guttural scream that seemed to originate from the depths of his soul. His nerves felt as if they had been ripped from his body then bathed in salt.  
  
Then, they were there. He felt them. The air turned cold. Dread took him.  
  
  
  
"No," he gasped. The Demon Riders walked up to him, their steps heavy with purpose. He sensed their eyes drilling into him.  
  
  
  
One of them reached for him.  
  
  
  
"No," the Hero croaked. Please.  
  
  
  
The touch burned through his very essence, stripping away all sense of his self. Despair hooked onto his heart. His mind cracked. Zelda.  
  
  
  
"You must kill Zelda, King's Slave," the voice said.  
  
  
  
Zelda. Focus. Think. Pain. Hunger. Tired.  
  
  
  
Loneliness.  
  
  
  
Outcast.  
  
  
  
"What must you do, King's Slave?"  
  
  
  
Think. Concentrate. Don't let go.  
  
  
  
"Tell me."  
  
  
  
Don't let go.  
  
  
  
Please, don't let go.  
  
  
  
Zelda. Love. Zelda. Love. Zelda.  
  
  
  
"What must you do?"  
  
  
  
Zelda. Zelda. Zelda.  
  
The Rider pressed his finger harder into the Hero's skin. Despair poured through his heart, mind and soul, like spilt ink running across a clean, white paper. Something shattered within him.  
  
  
  
"What must you do?"  
  
  
  
He knew exactly what he had to do.  
  
  
  
"I must kill Zelda." 


	18. A Friend Indeed

Chapter 17

He awoke to find the sky on fire. Pausing to pick up his sword and tie his belt, Vice Regent Ren of the Freelander Emirate rushed out of the small, wooden cabin he had decided to stay in during his time at Valiant port.

The cold, dawn air stung his gold skin, but worse was the frost that settled in his heart as he surveyed the scene. The sea was teeming with warships as if someone had cast a net into the waters and, instead of raising a load of fish, had caught hundreds of armour plated vessels.

The sky was tinted red from the rising sun, but now it rained cannonballs, their flight trails leaving angry scars in the air. The projectiles started to hit home, splintering huts into dust, scattering terrified animals and ploughing into the ground.

It was eerily quiet. He looked around him to see his people calmly ready bows and man the defence platforms. Their faces wore the stoic serenity made infamous by his race and he felt a surge of pride. They did not panic, though their steps and movements had the bite of measured urgency.

He ran across to one of the imposing, steel defence rigs that lined the port, jumping over broken and burning wood. He heard children weep softly. Their young ones would not cry out in terror, he thought with a grim smile. That was not their way.

The sky split as the sun slowly crept upwards, coating the enemy ships in a crimson glow that would have been beautiful if not for the circumstances. The soft whistle of flying cannonballs was punctured by deafening crashes as they tore into the port. He felt his spirits rise as he heard the crack of arrows rip through the air. The counterattack had begun.

Ren hoped it would be enough. Freelanders were skilled in hand-to-hand combat, but naval supremacy had always belonged to the Hylians.

They had known the attack was coming, of course. Chizan's guards had notified them of the situation. The Higher Council had wanted to send a diplomatic party to Hyrule to try and sort out the mess, but Chizan's guards had been insistent that any Freelander found in that country would be slaughtered on sight.

Ren's lip curled as he climbed into the rig's cabin. It would take ten Hylians to slaughter but one Freelander, he thought. The archers nodded to him, but said no word. The rig creaked as he worked the controls, readying the catapult for action.

His cousin Chizan had still not returned to fully brief them. The guards had told him that the Prince was accompanying the Hylian Queen on some journey. That had angered Rem. Now was not the time to show any loyalty to the Hylians. Especially as the people of the Emirate were confused, caught in a war they did not really know why they were fighting. Chizan's presence would have helped to clarify things.

Ren pulled the lever. The rig jerked violently and the spring twanged as the boulder was let loose.

He watched its progress, his eyes narrowed. It was buffeted left and right as it collided with incoming cannonballs, knocking chips of rock from its exterior. It started to dip and he saw the sailors on one ship flee in terror. With an ear-splitting rip, the boulder sliced through the sails before ramming into the deck with a shower of splinters. The ship started to keel to one side and lurched into the path of one of its allies. They collided, throwing the sailors into panic.

There was no cheering from the Freelanders. They had not been brought up to revel in the misfortunes of their enemies. Still. He had only knocked out two ships. Other boulders started flying, but as he scanned the horizon he saw that there were far too many ships to fight. Not just Hylian vessels either. He spotted Calatian, Lyderian, Zimmish and Jorl ships too. This was no hit and run attack, he realised with a sinking sense of dread. This was an invasion.

Ren saw the glimmer of movement from the corner of his vision. He peered forwards trying to see. There. A woman at the edge of the bay, grimly trying to reach for a small child trapped under a fallen crate.

He hissed and leapt from the cabin, surprising the archers. The lethal rain continued, making him flinch as some of the cannonballs landed too close to him. There was the smell of burning in the air and hazy smoke started to float over the port. He heard the rumble of collapsing rock and the crunch of wood being shattered. There were very few screams though. His people just did not do that.

Ren saw the woman reach for the child and realised that her leg was cut. A dark, angry stain seeped across her dress. He grit his teeth and pushed his leg muscles on.

He barely caught the sound. A whistle. A lot louder than it should be.

He ducked and rolled an instant before the cannonball screeched into the ground. Hot chips of rock splintered into his arm and he instinctively covered his face to protect it from harm. He lay there, waiting for the chaos to end as his arm throbbed in pain.

Silence. He groggily got to his feet and felt the slick flow of blood trickle. There was no time to worry about that now. Jumping over the last bits of debris he reached the child and, with a hefty kick that sent slivers of pain up his leg, shattered the crate.

He cradled the child and took the woman by her hand. The woman smiled wordlessly, the gratitude and relief clear in her eyes. Gently, he pulled her towards the defence rig. A slow ember of anger ignited in his soul as he realised that they were going to lose Valiant. He was going to have a few choice words with his cousin if he ever got his hands on him again.

That is, if he could get out of here alive.

*

Fran chewed his lip nervously as he watched the guards load the ship. The Royal Galleon was a magnificent vessel; long and tall, its sails displaying the Triforce emblem of the Royal Family proudly soared skywards. The wood was dark red and a line of gold lead from its tip to bow. A majestic and extravagant waste of money, thought Fran.

He had spent many tense hours waiting for Link to reappear from the castle. Finally, as darkness fell, he had been shooed away by the guards. Despondent and confused, Fran had waited on the outskirts of the Market Town hoping for a glimpse of his friend.

Finally, after many days, it had come, but not in the way he had expected. The King was on the move and the procession of guards and advisors slowly marched through the town. What had made the people gasp was not the sheer spectacle of the convoy, but the fact that standing proudly next to the King was the Hero of Time himself.

Fran could not figure out what was going on, but realised he needed to move fast. Picking up Tessa from the tavern, he quickly asked of the King's destination. Galloping to Lon Lon as fast as he could, he collected Chitz and made his way to the Royal harbour. He did not want to leave his daughter all alone and so the three of them were now crouched beside a warehouse as the ship prepared for departure.

The hunter's head pounded. He had no idea what to do. He looked up at the deck of the ship. Standing there, gazing out towards the sea with a pensive look on his face was Link. What was the Hero of Time planning? Briefly, Fran considered drawing attention to himself, but something stilled him. There was something different about Link. His posture, his expression were subtly .. changed. Everything about him was wrong.

Fran felt Chitz fidget beneath him. They had wrapped the Imp in a thick blanket and the hunter had carried him like he was a bag of fruit he was going to trade with. Fran looked down and saw Chitz's yellow eyes peer up at him.

"Haha .. looks like the Hero has thrown in his lot with the King .. haha," the Imp said.

Fran frowned. "What?" he hissed. He had no time for Chitz's foolishness at the moment.

"Papa." He heard Tessa's gentle voice call from behind him. Her forehead was creased with worry. "We are going to help Link, aren't we?"

Fran laid his head back against the wooden wall and closed his eyes. The tangy smell of freshly caught fish drifted towards him, mixing with the salty air of the sea. How had he gotten himself caught up in all this? Selfishly, he wondered if he shouldn't have just left Link lying on the forest when he found him. What could he do now? He did not want Tessa to be involved in anything dangerous. Yet, he could not just leave her in Hyrule where she had no one to truly care for her. He did not even know where the King was heading. Apparently, it was top secret. What if it was somewhere a lot more unsafe than here?

He sighed. What did he owe Link anyway? Even as the thought occurred to him, he swatted it away. Fran had pledged himself to help Link and he was not the type to shirk on an oath. Indirectly, he had also promised the Queen of Hyrule herself.

He opened his eyes. Tessa was looking at him imploringly, her hazel eyes wide. This was too much. He'd never had to do anything like this before. Sneak aboard a Royal ship and rescue a friend? Madness! How would he get them all on anyway?

He turned to look at the sailors as they strained to carry large, wooden crates into the ship's hull. Fran wondered what was in them. He glanced around. The other crates stood nearby, unguarded. The breeze gently rattled at the wooden beams. Eyes narrowed, Fran made some quick measurements in his head. Large enough. He smiled grimly.

Sometimes the simplest plans were the best.

*

Zayna stood on the deck of the Fountain's Wings carefully watching the group of three. She hugged a large wooden mug, still full with water that spilled out as the ship bobbed from side to side. Taking a sip, she grimaced. The water had a metallic taste and was filled with bits of grainy dirt.

She had recognised the man with the long, silvery hair. Tyron. One of the King's Advisors, though he spent more time guiding Zelda than Cyle. That left the other two. Zayna was certain that one had to be the Queen herself. The other one, whose face was covered in a thick scarf, she had no idea about.

They stood at the edge of the ship, looking out at the sea and speaking in hushed tones. Why was Zelda making her way to Morolak? The last she had heard, Morolak had signed a treaty with Hyrule. Or was it simply because they had not joined the war yet and the Queen hoped to sway them to her side?

Zayna had no time to think on that now. What she did have to ponder was whether she should reveal herself to her old mistress. Would Zelda be pleased? Angry? Would she even remember who she was? And why should Zayna impose herself on the Queen? She did not really expect them to help her. Rather, they would probably be resentful of her presence. Besides, she was the Key, she needed no one else.

The thought filled her with determination and yet, she still edged her way casually over to where they stood. She did not stand too close though. There was no point in making herself too obvious.

She gazed out over the side of the ship and watched as the waves foamed up against the wizened wooden hull. It was cold, but still a nice day. The afternoon sun hung in the blue, cloudless sky as the ship cut its way through the ocean. They had been travelling for quite a while now and if this had been any other vessel they would have reached their destination by now.

The wind blew the faint traces of their voices towards her and she leaned to one side trying to catch the conversation. Years spent scurrying in the castle and eavesdropping on gossip had trained her ears to pick up words that other people usually could not. She was surprised to find that the familiar sound of Zelda's voice warmed her heart.

"You know," the Queen was saying. "Some people used to think that Link and I were brother and sister."

Zayna glanced over to them and saw Zelda and Tyron lock gazes.

"Fools," they both said with a laugh. Zayna felt her mouth curve in an instinctive smile as well.

"I hope he's okay." Zelda was speaking again. There was something tight in the tone of her voice, a mix between longing and fear. Zayna felt confused. Hadn't Chalance Vance said the Hero was dead? "My dream was so vivid."

"What did you see?" It was the other man now. The question was framed in a peaceful voice that bizarrely reminded Zayna of the times her mother used to stroke her hair when she was upset.

"It wasn't very clear," Zelda said, frowning as she struggled to find the right words. "His whole .. being .. seemed to be cracking." She paused. "It's hard to explain."

The sorcerer had lied. It was so obvious now. She was a fool for believing his words in the first place. The man had hoped to break spirit with his untruths. She sighed as she felt her whole body relax. Link was alive! There was still hope!

"Maybe the farmgirl Tessa broke his heart," Tyron said, his voice sparkling with amusement.

Zelda gave him a sour look. "I doubt I would have nightmares about that."

"Oh, I bet you would," Tyron answered, chuckling.

The Queen made a face and ignored him. "I wonder if he's had any luck finding the Key."

Zayna blinked. The mug almost slipped from her fingers into the depths below as her mind registered those last words. Had she heard correctly? They knew of the Key? And Link was searching for her?

"He said your 'Zayna' was to be found at the castle," the other man said. "I fervently wish that he is right."

This time the mug did drop. Zayna felt the blood thump in her ears. She realised that she was trembling. They were beginning to move away and she had to make a decision now.

She spun on her heel, breathing deeply. Walking with purpose, she felt light, as if she was in a dream. She lightly tapped the Queen on her shoulder. "Your Highness."

Zelda flinched, Tyron looked up and the other man reached for his sword. The Queen peered through her hood, her face calm. She gasped.

"Zayna?"

*

They were all seated in her cabin now as Zayna finished her story. Zelda's heart was fluttering with hope. This had been too much to believe. She was glad that her old Advisor still lived, but a small, selfish part of her was gloating. She had the Key and Cyle did not. Now all she had to do was figure out what to do with her.

"This is certainly good news," Tyron said with a smile. "It puts us in a very good position."

"Indeed," said Zelda. She smiled at Zayna and walked to her. "But lets not forget. She's not a 'Key'. She's a person." The Queen wrapped her arms around her Advisor. Zayna initially stiffened, seemingly hesitant, but then relaxed and returned the hug. The feeling was genuine and Zelda closed her eyes. "It's good to see you again, my friend."

"And you," she answered, sniffing. "I was saddened to hear that the King had driven you out."

"Driven us both out, it seems," Zelda said. Her expression turned grim. "He won't get away with this," she said softly. "I promise you."

Zayna gave her an awkward smile as if she did not quite believe the words. Zelda saw the sadness in her eyes and felt pained.

"So, what do we do now?" It was Chizan, asking the question that had sat unspoken on their lips for the past few hours.

The Queen turned to Tyron. "Is there no way we can remove this .. curse from her?"

Tyron fiddled with the edge of his tunic as he sat thinking. "I don't know of any," he said slowly. "But that does not mean there is none."

"There's a Counter Key," said Zayna, failing to keep the hope from her voice. "Chalance Vance said she was dead, but he also said Link was dead too. So .."

"No," said Zelda. It was hurting her to break her friend's heart like this. "For once, the sorcerer spoke the truth. The Counter Key is gone." She looked into Zayna's eyes. "She was a dear friend of mine. Cyle killed her."

Her Advisor opened her mouth to speak, but then thought better of it.

There was a small cough. Zelda blinked. Chizan?

"There is someone in the Emirate," he said, not comfortable with being the centre of attention. "A wise one. She knows of many mysteries. She might have an answer."

"You tell me this now? When we've already set sail for Morolak?" said Zelda.

Chizan shrugged, but his expression did not change. "I did not expect to be escorting the Key with us, Your Highness."

Zelda closed her eyes. He was right and it was pointless losing her temper over it. Still. "Stop calling her 'the Key'," she mumbled out of spite.

"It's okay, Your Highness," Zayna said.

The Queen threw up her hands in mock disgust. "And stop calling me 'Your Highness.'" There was laughter in her voice and Zayna smiled along with her.

"It is what I am though," Zayna said. "The Key to open the Gate."

"There'll be no opening of any Gates while I'm around," Zelda answered. She turned to the Prince. "It's too dangerous to get to the Emirate now, Chizan." Her voice had softened, hoping that he had not taken offence at her earlier words. "What can we do?"

His purple eyes seemed to turn inwards as he pondered. Zelda noticed that Zayna was looking at him with interest.

"The situation has changed," he said. "If there is a way to lift the curse we cannot ignore it. Without the Key," he paused to clear his throat. "Without Zayna's abilities, the King's plan falls apart. Then, we can launch the counter attack to get your throne back."

Zelda sat down, her head spinning. This was too much to digest. She still desperately wanted an army, wanted to launch her plan of attacking Cyle's trade routes as the first step of reclaiming Hyrule. At the same time, if they could neutralise Zayna's powers then the threat from the Sacred Realm was gone. If she spent too much time concentrating on that then the war would escalate and more people would die. She closed her eyes and her head began to beat with pain. People were going to die anyway.

An unpleasant thought came to her. Her eyes flicked open. "Now that we have Zayna," she said. "Where does that leave Link?"

Before anyone could answer, the ship lurched violently. Zelda's knee banged into a table and she bit down from the pain. Zayna was flung forwards, but the Prince caught her. The Queen looked up and saw Tyron's alarmed expression.

Wordlessly, she strode to the door and flung it open. Outside, a black warship loomed over them, its cannons pointing menacingly at the small passenger boat. Zelda's heart sank. Had Cyle caught them? Had he known where she was all along and had waited, playing her for a fool?

The others followed her cautiously as she walked onto the deck. She could see the sailors on the other ship, their postures straight with determination. Wait. These weren't Hylians. She frowned, squinting her eyes to get a closer look. She felt the Prince come up beside her. He was chuckling softly.

It was a Freelander ship.

*

Cyle could not stop looking at him. Every now and again his eyes would dart towards the Hero of Time, as he stood gazing with hard eyes. His presence made the King feel uneasy. He had to resist the urge to just whip out his sword and end the man's life in one stroke.

Cyle had almost throttled Link when Chalance Vance had presented him as his new 'protector'. Vance had said the Hero had been through some sort of 'mind altering' experiment that had broken the man so badly that he was now the King's willing slave. Cyle had not believed it for an instant. Yet, here he was. Link had followed him around obediently, reaching for his sword at the slightest hint of danger. Still, the doubt gnawed at him.

He knew why Vance had done it. Now, the Advisor no longer needed to be his personal protector on the battlefield. He'd somehow managed to get Link to fill that role. It felt strange to picture that. Idly, Cyle wondered just how brutal this 'experiment' had been to have made the usually strong willed Hero his willing ally. His Advisor had briefly mumbled something about using phantom spirits in the images of Cyle and Zelda, but had not gone into too much detail. The King realised with some distaste that there was far too much about Chalance Vance that he did not know about and did not like.

Vance was with him now, as was one of his generals as they waited for the ship to launch. Link was standing off to one side and Cyle chewed on his teeth to fight the tension. On the table in front of them there lay a map of Narik's Rock where they hoped the Freelanders would fall. The corners of the map fluttered as the breeze tugged at it.

The Rock itself was some sort of sacred ground for the Freelanders. It was situated in a valley and before it stood two hillocks adjacent to one another.

"So," the general was saying. "It is clear that a frontal assault is the best. They will cling to the Rock and we can pick them off easily."

Cyle examined the map carefully. "We can push them back with our troops?"

"I think so, Your Highness. This is an important place for them. We take it and, not only will we hit them with severe losses, but we'll dent their morale so badly that the rest of the country will collapse easily."

"Won't they fight back?"

"Well, they'll have the Rock behind them and us in front of them." The general licked his lips as a smile played on his face. "They will truly be caught between a Rock and a hard place." He gave a small laugh.

Cyle did not share in his amusement, but the general's plan did seem sound. "Good," he said. "Then that's exactly how we'll do it."

The low, throaty chuckle that floated towards them chilled Cyle to the soul. He looked up at Link. He was lounging against a cabin, his arms folded across his chest. Amusement danced in his eyes as he chewed on something.

"Is there a problem?" Cyle asked.

"Yes, there is, Your Highness." Link said 'Your Highness' with a sneer in his voice. He paused to examine his fingernails, before fixing the three of them with a conceited stare. "Your idiotic plan."

A muscle twitched in Cyle's cheek, but he said nothing. He saw his Advisor frown out of the corner of his eye. Vance had assured him that the mind altering would leave Link a docile puppy. Cyle grimaced inwardly. The man standing before them was far from docile. Yes, Link was seemingly content to protect him from harm, but he was going to do it without giving an inch in respect. The King wondered if Link had actually been less dangerous as a 'Hero'.

"Do you have a better idea?" the King asked.

A corner of Link's mouth curled up in scorn. "As a matter of fact, I do."

He walked over to them, taking his time. He clicked his fingers and pointed at the map. "Let me open your eyes for you," he said.

"Here," he pointed at one of the hillocks. "You deploy a regiment of archers as you do here." He pointed at the other hillock. "With the archers in an out of reach position they can pick off the Freelanders while you make your thrust here." He pointed at the valley in front of Narik's Rock. He paused before saying, "And then you pull back."

"You want us to retreat?" Cyle said incredulously.

"Hey," said Link, slamming one hand down on the table. "Who's telling this plan? You or me? Keep your pretty boy mouth shut."

Cyle gritted his teeth as his general reached for a sword. The King held up a hand, stilling the soldier. "Let him speak."

"Why, thank you, Your Madness." Cyle's eyes narrowed and he saw that his general was gripping the hilt of his sword tightly. "Yes, I want you to retreat. But only after you've loaded the foot of the two hills with those fancy little Goron explosives. With the Freelanders lulled into a false sense of security, you detonate the bombs. Then, pow! Buried alive." He winked.

It was a brilliant plan, Cyle thought. But admitting such would make him look foolish. Still, what did it matter? He shouldn't have to fear a loss of face in front of this man. He swallowed the sour taste from his mouth and gazed coolly at Link. The Hero gazed back, a self-satisfied smile planted on his face.

The King turned to the general. "You heard the man," he said. "Start loading our supplies of explosives."

The general's mouth dropped. "But, Your Highness .."

"Do it," he answered. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"No, Your Highness." He swallowed, giving Link a hateful look. The Hero gave him a little wave in return. "I'll see it is done right away."

Cyle still was not convinced. What could possibly have happened to change Link's personality so dramatically? He wondered if there was some game being played here and felt troubled that he had let slip so much of his plans out. Yet, Link's strategy was flawless. And brutally cold blooded.

Cyle decided to test his new 'protector's' loyalty. "So," he said, sniffing. "There might be a chance that Zelda might be at this battle."

Link looked at him, his expression apathetic. "What of it?"

The King gave a small shrug. "What will you do if you see her?'

The Hero's glance flicked briefly to the Advisor before he looked back at Cyle. There was silence and the sea breeze flicked at his blonde hair. For a moment, Cyle thought that he would not respond.

"Your Highness," Link said finally. "I'll serve her still beating heart to you on a plate."


	19. Hidden Agendas

Chapter 18

The tension was like a physical thing floating in the air. It was stirring deep within each one of them, a shiver of emotion that quivered in time to the beating of their hearts. Fran felt it more than the others. He crouched, letting the soft moonlight bathe him as he listened to the faint rustle of the overgrown grass. The cool air stroked the back of his neck, yet he felt far from refreshed. Mouth dry, he clutched his bow, the weapon feeling cold and heavy in his hands.

Fran glanced left. He could not see them, but knew they were there. Fanned out and hidden in the undergrowth were a group of Hylian soldiers, clad in dark tunics and armed with bows and short swords. Ahead of them stood a small wooden outpost, torchlight created shadows flickering against its walls. The hunter could make out the forms of a few Freelanders, standing tall and proud while they scanned the area.

They had landed on Freelander shores only a few days ago. News had reached them that the Allied attack on the Freelander port of Valiant had been victorious and the invasion army was now making its way slowly towards Narik's Rock. Fran privately wondered how successful the Allied army's path really was. As the King's party trekked across the land, they increasingly came across more and more stragglers from the troops. Bleeding, battered and broken, the soldiers looked like they had fought Ganon on the very edge of the Pit itself. That was nothing compared to the large number of Allied corpses left rotting in the burnt and looted villages they passed, silence and dust the only mourners.

It was clear that the Freelanders were fighting hard. It was also clear that they had not expected an attack of this scale. The Freelanders must have thought that the 'war' would go no further than a few skirmishes before being resolved diplomatically. Caught by surprise, they were doing exactly as the King had expected them to do - regrouping at the Rock.

And yet the King had not been happy. As the others had celebrated at the fall of the port, the King had been sullen and dour, his mood no doubt soured by the sight of so many fallen troops. It had been Link who had suggested an attack on all remaining Freelander Outposts that they came across in their path. The King had been gladdened at the plan.

Fran resisted the urge to shake his head. He felt sick. The hunter could not decide whether Link had truly joined with the King or if there was something more subtle going on. Leaving Chitz with Tessa as she slipped in with the maids and nurses joining the King's entourage, Fran had joined the assault party, his hunting skills waving away any questions anyone might have had about what he was doing on the ship in the first place. He had wanted to keep an eye on the Hero of Time.

A flicker of movement caught Fran's eye. A few metres ahead, a held up hand was barely perceptible above the swaying grass. It was Link. The Hero had chosen to lead this attack. Fran remembered the disappointment he felt as Link had cast his lazy gaze over him while inspecting the party. His friend had seemingly not recognised him at all. He had not had the chance to speak with the Hero and, indeed, was not sure what he would have said to him even if he had.

Fran fixed his gaze on Link's held up hand. The fingers jerked, once, twice in rapid fire as he beckoned the soldiers closer. Fran inched his way onwards, trying not to disturb the grass too much. His knees slid across the soil and his breath was shallow and ragged. So long as the Freelanders thought that the grass was moving because of the breeze they would be safe.

Finally, he caught a glimpse of the Hero of Time, his expression as dark as his clothes. Link held up a hand to halt him. On the far side, Fran could see the two other soldiers that made up the assault party. The sneers plastered on their faces and the way their muscles spasmed occasionally told Fran that they were anxious for some action. For some slaughter, more like. The hunter tightened his throat to keep the bile from rising.

"Left archer," Link said, his voice a harsh whisper. "Take out the Freelander on the upper left platform."

"Aye, sir," one of the soldiers nodded, moving into position and raising his bow.

"Middle archer, you're with me. Target: the duo on the lower floor."

"Be a pleasure, sir." The young man gave Link a look of such adoration that Fran felt even more nauseous. He'd seen it enough times in his life. Inexperienced and itching for battle, the soldiers needed someone to look up to, yet the Hero in his current persona was no role model. He felt a stab of sympathy for their foolish immaturity, yet he hoped they had the character to rely on themselves when they realised that Link was not as great as they thought. He wondered if they would have been equally as devoted if Link was his 'old self'. And if not, what kind of people did that make them? Soldiers were usually recruited from those families that could not find themselves an honest trade. He tried to ignore the prejudiced thoughts in his head, but could not resist. It was generally known that soldiers were usually good-for-nothings that cared only about satisfying their own needs. Especially their bloodlust.

"Right archer," Link turned his head to pin his gaze on Fran. A small gust of wind blew, mildly ruffling his hair. His usually blonde hair was now streaked with grease to keep it camouflaged. "There's an enemy on the upper right platform. Just out of sight, he's keeping watch towards the south. He's yours."

Fran merely nodded, lifting his bow as his heart trembled. He had known that there would be fighting, but concern for Link and made him push that worry to the back of his mind. Could he really kill another person in cold blood? A person who had done nothing to him and with whom he had no grievance?

"Attack positions," Link's voice floated over the breeze. Fran twirled an arrow in his hand, nervously. Pulling back the bowstring, he readied the wooden missile. The hunter lifted the bow and narrowed his eyes. There. The Freelander was just outside his field of vision, hidden behind one of the sharp corners of the outpost. As Link had said, he was watching the southern side, where a forest of tall, dark trees stood. The man's head and shoulder were visible though. An easy target for an archer as skilled as him.

Fran swallowed, trying to get some fluid into his mouth. He lined the sharp tip of the arrow along with the Freelander's head. Tiny flying insects buzzed around his face, making his eyelids twitch in annoyance. This was not like killing a boar. He felt his eyes sting as tears threatened to come. He tried to fight the thoughts that whispered in his head. Did this man have family? A wife? A daughter like Tessa? How could something as rich as a life itself be thrown away so senselessly? A single flying arrow cast by a stranger and the life was over. The hunter watched as the moon's dreamy light shimmered over the metal arrowhead, trying to keep his mind focused on something else.

"Shoot to wound." Link's voice pierced Fran's dread so abruptly that he thought he was hearing things. He dared to throw a glance over at the Hero. Link's face was still hard, and his gaze was still locked on his target, but he gave a small nod as he acknowledged Fran's unspoken question. Sweet relief flowed through him like a parched man in the desert drinking water. He felt hope too. Maybe there was still some of Link's old self buried in there?

"Loose."

The strings '_twanged_' and the foursome jerked from the recoil as the arrows were set free. There was a gasp as the one of the Freelanders on the upper platform was struck in the arm. A Freelander on the lower floor turned his head sharply as an arrow narrowly missed his hand. Link and Fran missed, their arrows biting into the wooden building, the tails still humming and shimmering.

The response was immediate. Somewhere, someone was blowing a horn as the alarm rang out. Freelanders poured out of the small building, the weaponry on their armour springing out, a protective shell of silver spikes. Link stood, drawing his sword with a metallic slice. Fran and the others stood as well, their weapons ready.

They waited. There were a dozen Freelanders bounding towards them now. Had this been a regular fight Fran knew that their assault party would have lost. But that was not the plan.

As the Freelanders drew closer, a hail of arrows flew from the southern side of the outpost, splintering the building into pieces. The warriors turned, stunned as another three battalions of the Hylian army flowed from the forest on the far side. The Freelanders were caught in a crossfire.

"Shoot to wound!" Link's voice bellowed out over the noise of metal on metal and the rip of flying arrows. Fran aimed his shots carefully, making sure to graze the Freelanders' arms so that they would drop their weapons.

One of the soldiers gave Link a quizzical look. "We need prisoners," Link said as a reply. Satisfied with this, the soldier continued to attack.

The Freelanders fought back and soon their weapons were thick with blood. With a sense of unease, Fran noted how many of the Hylians were falling, their gurgling screams ringing in the air. Despite being outnumbered and outmanoeuvred, the Freelanders almost seemed like they were on the verge of a victorious comeback. Almost.

They started to drop, as well aimed arrows picked off their weapons from a safe distance. The Freelanders were bloodied now, but a quick scan told Fran that they had not suffered any serious wounds. The hunter silently marvelled at the respect that Link commanded. The soldiers had followed his orders to the letter.

There was one large ox of a Freelander, his body swollen and slow with cuts, standing his ground in the mud and blood wildly spinning his sword at anyone that would come near. The Hylians backed off tentatively as Link strode up to him, eyes alight with determination.

They stood for a moment regarding one another as the some of the soldiers paused to watch. With a grunt, the large Freelander swung at Link. Ducking, the Hero flipped his sword so it was hilt side up. Doubling the man over with a knee to the stomach, Link thrust the hilt upwards, smashing into the Freelander's jaw. His arms spinning to regain balance, the warrior fell slowly backwards like a newly cut tree. At the last instant, he flung his arms upwards and two small blades flew from wrist cavities. One blade missed the Hero entirely, and he jerked his head to try and deflect the second. Too late. It sliced his cheek and he snarled as the Freelander fell into unconsciousness.

Fran watched Link rub his cheek and surveyed the scene. The last Freelander had fallen. He resisted the urge to shake as head as he spotted the looks of awe on some of the younger soldiers.

"Bravo! Bravo!" Fran turned his head to the sound of clapping. Peeking out from behind one of the Hylian soldiers was Chalance Vance. The hunter caught Link quickly hide a look of distaste.

"The King will surely be pleased with this." He turned to regard Link with a cold smile. "You have done well, King's Slave." The sorcerer had made sure to raise his voice at the end to make sure all around could hear.

Fran watched as the Hero and the Advisor eyed one another in hushed silence. Again, the tenseness filled the air. Was it his imagination or was there something crackling in the atmosphere? Finally, Chalance Vance turned away; a satisfied expression fixed on is face.

Link's hand darted out, grabbing the man's robe. Vance turned back, a hint of a snarl on his lips. Some of the soldiers looked at them curiously, confused at what was going on.

"Chalance Vance," Link said. "I would like a word with you."

*

It was beautiful. Almost lazily beautiful, Zelda thought. As if such could be said of the sight before her. She guessed she meant that it was a vision she would like to see last upon sleeping and first upon waking.

Carved on the ground between two hills was a shiny marble path, cool to touch despite the noonday heat beating down. Intricately engraved upon the path were glistening silver patterns that curled and entwined with one another, reflecting the sun's light with dazzling splendour. The patterns took many forms; here, a dragon with a long, pointed tail, and there, a girl, smiling, pretty.

The hills either side of her were a work of art too. Spiral patterns of pink and yellow flowers curled towards a glittering purple jewel embedded in the centre. They trotted along the marble path which led to an elaborately constructed palace that had taken her breath away when she first set eyes on it.

The path ended in a mountain, and the Freelanders had ploughed into one if its sides to create a rock pedestal on which to build their palace on. Minarets and towers sat upon a building whose texture seemed to change from sapphire to sparkling emerald second by second.

Then there was the scent. It hung in the air, not powerful and not too faint. Lemony and sweet, just the very act of breathing made her spirits rise. Tears came to Zelda's eyes. Again, she remembered the many summers she had hidden herself away from the world, dark and depressed. Why hadn't anyone told her that the rest of the world held such beauty?

They had come here as prisoners of a sort. The Freelander warship that had intercepted the Fountain's Wings had been captained by a nobleman named Ren, apparently a relative of Prince Chizan's. While the Freelanders had taken the other passengers prisoner, Chizan had privately spoken to Ren and had been allowed to take Zelda, Zayna and Tyron into his custody. The Prince had come out of the meeting flustered and looking troubled, and Zelda worried about what was going to happen as they were taken to this supposedly 'hidden' palace. Chizan had tried to reassure her, but she had not been convinced. When she asked him whether she and her friends could walk free, he had become tight-lipped.

There was something else about Chizan too. Mixed in with his discomfort, she sometimes caught him looking at her with a boyish expression on his face and a hint of longing in his eyes that made her feel .. unsettled. Once, during the trip they had found themselves alone together and the Prince had been surprisingly open, talking about his childhood and smiling at her. The memories were pleasant and she had warmed towards him, yet the intensity of his gaze had made her shrink somewhat. Once, he had reached for her hand .. out of friendship or something more, she could not tell. She had withdrawn, confused. Had she offended him by rejecting what was nothing more than a friendly gesture?

Still, the foreboding she felt melted in the face of the pleasant surroundings. She did not know much about where they were headed, except that it was considered a sacred sanctuary to the Freelanders. Chizan had told her in a hushed voice that some distance on the other side of the mountain stood a place called Narik's Rock. Proudly, he predicted that it was there that the war would end.

Still marvelling at the scene, it pained her to realise how little she knew about the Freelanders or indeed, the rest of her world. She had underestimated them, had not thought them capable of creating such wonders, assuming they were nothing more than a noble, warrior race. It hurt that such a place and people would soon be plunged into battle.

Zelda suddenly felt very small and alone. Tyron and Zayna were riding beside her, engrossed in a quiet conversation. Yet, she still did not feel at ease. She longed for the comfort of something familiar. Or someone. Her heart tugged as Link's name came to her. She bitterly wished that he was here, sharing this view with her.

He'd always teased her for being so caught up in her position that she had never left enough time for herself. Ironic, really, that he had also gone down the path of solitude eventually. She remembered how he had collapsed into her arms after the death of Malon, weeping as she tried to shush him. Cyle asked for her company every evening and Link had looked stricken every time she left him. 'Don't you know how wrong it is?' he would whisper, his eyes imploring. She had thought it was the grief speaking.

Time passed and they would enjoy quiet evenings together, riding on horseback, just talking and laughing. Or sometimes just not saying anything at all, letting the dying rays of the setting sun warm their faces and content in each other's presence. Though they had to be discreetly chaperoned as Hylian custom dictated, it did feel as though they were the only ones in the world sharing those moments. She'd never told him how much she enjoyed that time, the freedom she felt with him, removed from the pressures of royalty and Cyle's sometimes aggressive affection. Her heart had been torn. The fondness between them had always been there, though she had kept it in check. But it had filled her with guilt that it had taken the death of a friend to bring it simmering to the surface. And Cyle's more flamboyant courting had both confused and flattered her, especially with so many well wishers whispering her ear about how he was such a 'good catch'. Mina had chided her. 'How could the Princess be so astute in diplomatic matters but so naive in the ways of the heart?' she had said with a playful taunt.

Link wasn't much better. On one rare occasion they had the chance to visit far off town, famed for its exotic clothes. Heavily disguised and soaked with rain, she had dragged a seemingly reluctant Link from store to store whilst she grinned happily at the stunning fabrics on sale. One green-feathered dress had caught her eye and it had almost broken her heart as Link had to pull her away from the display, mildly teasing her. Imagine her surprise then, when she came home that night and found the dress laying on her bed wrapped in a patterened ribbon that someone had obviously gone to a great effort to tie. He had avoided her for the next few weeks, blushing whenever they locked gazes, as if he himself had been astounded by what he'd done.

Another time, a spring festival was being held at the castle where maidens would come to be fawned over by mothers looking for prospective wives for their sons. She had been jittery that day as Cyle's parents would be attending. Rushing around panicked, she had passed Link in a busy corridor. Shyly, he had fumbled a rose into her hand before making a quick exit. She had giggled at his awkwardness. A lion in battle he may be, but when facing his feelings he was easily cowed.

Strange then, that he was now so relaxed with the farmgirl Tessa. Zelda guessed that his time away had obviously changed him. That and the fact that neither of them were no longer young and foolish anymore. Link's exile had been the only sour aspect of her early married life. She had felt that she had lost a limb or that a wall had been built in her heart cutting off her memories of her old friend. The happiness during the early days of her marriage had helped to temper those emotions, though she did think of him from time to time. It made her feel ill wondering how he was. The solitude must have been cold despite the heat of the desert climate. She regularly sent out messengers to check on him, eagerly awaiting a reply she knew probably would not come.

Cyle used to regard Link with some distaste, wondering why she spent so much time with the 'commoner'. Link was still considered that by the Hylian upper classes, despite his general status as the 'Hero of Time'. They would avoid one another, Link and Cyle. Privately, the Hero would start rambling to her about how Cyle had really murdered Malon. This, despite Talon's eyewitness. She had thought he may have been losing his mind, his heart and core unhinged by the death of their friend. Cyle would ignore the accusations, using them as another reason to look down on Link with contempt.'He is not worthy of you', Cyle would say. She tasted the bittersweet melancholy in her soul.

The feeling turned to anger. She wished she wasn't the Queen. She wished he wasn't the Hero of Time. Zelda wanted to give up everything just to be .. normal. Just to live like normal people. Her and Link, enjoying each other's company, quietly living out their days cocooned in love. Husband and wife. Her cheeks flushed at the very thought. It felt strange to consider him so, and yet it felt right. Like something that should have been. Did he still think the same of her? It was, she mused, so hard to guess at what someone was thinking and feeling, especially if her own emotions were clouding her judgement.

She knew it was selfish and childish, and she tried to shake the feelings off, but still the tears came. She sniffed, trying to blink them away.

"Your highness?" Zelda turned to see Tyron regarding her with a compassionate look. Then again, she thought with a wry smile, there are some people who were skilled at reading people's inner states. And they did it, not by magic, but by the weight of experience and by possessing a sharp insight. Maybe Tyron should have the Triforce of Wisdom and not her.

"Yes?"

"We've arrived." He smiled.

Lost in her thoughts, she hadn't realised that they had ridden up to the gate. Chizan and Ren waited there and the Prince held out his hand to help her off of her horse. Again she hesitated, feeling awkward, before chastising herself for all her silly thoughts and accepting his assistance.

He gave her a wide grin and she found it hard to resist responding in kind. Gazing at his beaming face, she felt a little less forlorn. She glanced over at Ren. He looked grim, his mouth set in a thin line. She didn't think he liked her at all.

"Uncle would like to see them," Ren said simply, before spinning on his heel and walking away.

"Uncle?" Zelda asked, looking up at Chizan.

"My father," the Prince answered, his expression still troubled. "The King of the Freelander Emirate."

*

"And so, we have decided to regroup at Narik's Rock. All non-combatants have been sent north, to hide in the mountains if neccesary. The Rock is where our forefathers made their last stand against the primeval invaders of long ago. It is there that they fought off those who would attempt to enslave us. It is there that the Freelander Emirate was born. Their blood is soaked into the Rock itself. We can still taste the power of it there. It is only fitting that it is there that we shall defeat your husband."

Zelda swallowed, feeling uneasy as the King finished his speech. His gaze lay on her, calm and ancient. His silver hair flowed to his shoulders and the lines engraved in his face did little to detract from its regality. He clutched a staff in one hand, idly letting it scratch on the floor below. She had not realised how badly the war had gone for them, how they had been surprised and outnumbered so easily. She guessed that they were deeply embarrassed at the war's progress and were hiding it within. Understandable, considering that they had not to take part in any active battles for many summers while Cyle had clearly been secretly preparing and recruiting his troops for quite some time now.

Still. She knew otherworldly forces worked upon the world, but she felt a little uncomfortable that they were so easily willing to rest their hopes on the blood of martyrs soaked into a prehistoric rock.

"I can do nothing but apologise, Your Majesty," she said. Her voice sounded small in the large room where they sat. Patterned windows broke the sun's beams and split them into different colours.

The Freelander King did not reply. Instead, he shifted his gaze to Prince Chizan, who was uncharacteristically fidgeting in a chair beside her.

"Why have you brought her here?" The King asked. She was alone, but for the King, the Prince and Viceroy Ren. Zayna and Tyron had been taken to private quarters.

Chizan looked perturbed, his mouth chewing as he struggled to find the words.

"Yes, cousin, " Ren said, trying to keep the spectre of a challenge out of his tone. "Tell us why you have brought the enemy's Queen into our lands."

Zelda felt cold lead in her throat at the words.

"Do you not know who she is?" Chizan spat. "She is one of many Heroic Deeds. She helped overthrow the Dark Lord himself."

"That was in the past," Ren answered. There was a hint of anger in his voice. "This is now. She is our enemy and a liability."

Zelda felt angry too. How dare they speak of her as if she were not even there?

"You enemy and my enemy is one," she said, fixing Ren with a glare. "The King of Hyrule has cast me out. He is no ally of mine."

Ren moved to speak, his features starting to scowl, but the Freelander King cut him off with a soft voice. "Would you fight against your own people then? Spill their blood?"

"She wishes to take back what is rightfully hers." It was Chizan who had answered. "She requests our help for this."

The Freelander King and the Viceroy turned their gazes to her, waiting for her to speak.

Gathering her thoughts, Zelda swallowed. "I am not here to make some sort of humble entreaty," she said, her eyes flicking from one person to the other. "The facts are clear. Cyle has taken my throne. I want it back. I need help." She stopped there. She did not want to beg.

"I do not see why we should assist," Ren said bluntly. "Once the invaders have been removed from our lands, we should wash our hands of Hyrule once and for all."

"I understand your predicament," Zelda said, turning to face him. "I do not wish to force you into anything, nor do I wish you to commit the blood of your children in my personal battle." She paused. "But understand this. Cyle will not stop at this. Even if you do drive him back - and I am sure you have the skill to do so - he will keep attacking and attacking until he gets what he wants."

"Which is?" asked Chizan's father.

Zelda looked him straight in the eye. "The total subjugation of the Freelander Emirate." The room was hushed as they waited for her to continue. "The only way peace will be restored is by me reclaiming my throne. For the sake of the whole world, this is the only path."

The Freelander King shifted in his seat. "Why does he seek this?"

"The Legend of Voraskar," Chizan answered. Zelda turned to him, surprised.

The King raised an eyebrow. "The Gate. The Key."

Chizan nodded.

"He possesses the Key?" the King asked.

"The Key is in this very building. It is the girl that accompanied Her Highness here."

Now it was their turn to look surprised. She heard Ren gasp beside her. The King's back stiffened, an unreadable look on his face. Zelda thought it might even be fear.

"Are you certain of this?" Ren asked, his eyes narrowed in a suspicious look.

"As certain as we can be," Zelda answered. She tried to smile to soften the revelation. Ren looked at her for a moment, but gave just a small nod before looking away.

"This is .. a difficult situation," the King said sadly.

"And an untimely one," Ren added. "We have a lot to concern ourselves with. The battle at Narik's Rock is where Heroic Deeds were born. This is enough for us."

A thought occurred to Zelda. She stood, and all eyes turned to her. Chizan looked confusedly at her.

"I cannot claim to know too much about your people, Your Majesty," she said. "But I have learnt a lot from your son here. I have to depend on his stability and his nobility. Your people are no cowards." She paused to let the words sink in. "And your people have a wonderful tradition. You stand here this day on a knife-edge between greatness and destruction. You wish to defend your people and this is understandable. But think of this. Protect the Key, end the Hylian invasion and restore justice in Hyrule." She stopped again, letting her gaze sweep around and linger on all three of them. "Three Heroic Deeds for the price of one. Three of the greatest that will be spoken of and sung about for eons to come."

The King chuckled as his expression softened. "You speak well, Your Highness."

Zelda smiled as she sat down. Perhaps this day would not end in failure.

"What of my people?" she asked. "The ones you caught on the Fountain's Wings."

"They will be let go," the Freelander King answered. "But only as a favour to you. Any others we find are captives of war."

She nodded, satisfied. She heard the exasperated snort from beside her and knew trouble was coming.

Ren held up a hand. "I do not wish to disrespect you," he said. "And forgive me for the harshness of my words earlier. I have seen far too much bloodshed over these past few days."

"There is nothing to apologise for, I assure you," she answered. There was something in his face that told her that there was a catch coming. She braced herself. There was little point in trying to change his opinion of her.

He smiled. "Yet. If your companion is who you claim she is, we would require her to have a Heroic Deed of her own before we gave her aid."

"Stop being foolish, cousin," Chizan said.

Ren fixed him with a cold stare. "Far from it. I only wish to be sure that she is worth the effort." He paused. "And she is who you say she is."

Zelda was confused, but waited for him to continue. It wearied her that he remained so unconvinced.

"I say she - and the Queen here - take the Test in the Labyrinth."

The Prince shook his head, looking exasperated. "We have no time for this. Why should the Queen even have to take part?"

Zelda did not understand what was going on and looked over at the Prince for answers. He looked back, his expression filled with concern and apprehension. His eyes flicked over her and again, there was something in them that she could not quite place. She turned away before the smile she knew was coming could settle on his face.

"You were not there at Valiant port, Chizan," Ren continued. "While you were enjoying yourself in Hyrule, I watched as the Hylians butchered Freelander women and children." He looked at Zelda, and his next words made her grimace. "Some of the soldiers looked like they were enjoying themselves. Despite her Deeds of the past, she is from the same people as these murderers. My heart needs to be stilled from its anxiety by the knowledge that she is worthy. What is one more Heroic Deed for one such as her? She asks us for three, I only ask for but one."

Chizan and Ren locked gazes, but stayed silent. Zelda felt the creeping discomfort in her heart. She could understand Ren's pain, but surely they must realise that just because she belonged to the same race as the soldiers that did not mean she was like them. Desperately, she looked to the Freelander King for support. The hard look on his face dismayed her.

"It would only be proper," the King mumbled.

Chizan sighed and shook his head. "Then let me join them. The three of us in the Labyrinth. But I still say that there is no time for this as war rages."

The King looked at them, his eyes milky. "So be it," he said with a nod. "Chizan, the Queen and the Key shall take the Test this very evening."

*

Chalance Vance sat in his makeshift tent, carefully eyeing the Hero of Time. He had delayed their meeting until the afternoon, not wanting to appear too capitulating in front of the troops. The edges of the tent flapped in the breeze and the sizzle of cooked meat wafted in over the air.

"What is it you want?" he asked. Link looked at him, his gaze level and cool. Something danced in the man's blue eyes that Vance could not quite recognise. Deception? Impossible. He himself had broken the Hero, he thought to himself with a surge of pride. The plan had been foolproof.

"You're a busy man," Link answered. "So I won't mince words. At least, not too much." He gave a humourless smile.

"Please continue," Vance mumbled in response. The entrance flap to the tent opened and a flustered soldier stumbled in. Recognising the two occupants, the soldier's eyes went wide. Link stared at him disinterestedly, but Vance bared his teeth in a snarl.

"I specifically asked for no disturbances!" Vance roared. How much longer did he have to put up with these simpletons? From lowly maids to the King himself, he was sick with the lot of them.

"S-sorry," the soldier mumbled, before tripping on his way out.

Link snorted then turned his attention back to Vance. Again, he caught something in the Hero's eyes that he could not place. Whatever it was he did not like it. Link leaned forward, knitting his fingers. He sorceror noticed that the scar on his forehead was starting to fade and was in sharp contrast to the freshly pink one on his cheek.

"Some time ago, I was in the Melody Forest," he said. "You may have heard of it. Nice place for hunting boar." Link looked like he would wink, but he kept his face calm. "There's a village there. You know, the usual. Traders, farmers." He paused to look directly at Vance. "Families."

"Go on," the sorcerer said.

"Well, there's the catch," the Hero continued. "I was there with a friend, looking for a place to rest. I was looking forward to mixing with the people. Catch up on the gossip, play with the children." Vance stopped himself from raising an eyebrow. The Hero was famed for being less than social these past few summers. "That sort of thing. But guess what I found instead?"

Vance knew what he was hinting at, but stayed silent.

"No?" the Hero asked with a slight tone of mockery. "Can't tell?"

"Get to your point, King's Slave."

Link cocked his head and his mouth curled in a smile at the sound of the 'title'. Pursing his lips, he did not respond to the insult.

"What I found was a burnt out husk of a town. Corpses everywhere." Instantly, the smile disappeared. Link's voice turned harsh and his gaze grew hard. "Men. Women. Children. Slaughtered like Cuccos on a feast day."

Vance straightened his robe and sniffed. "Why tell me this?"

Again, the easy smile returned. Link leaned back. "I want to know why."

Chalance Vance held his laugh inside. Was he a fool? Did the Hero expect him to spill out all his plans now just because they were on the same side?

"Were you looking for the Key?" The sorcerer's mouth turned dry at Link's words, but he kept his blank expression in place. It took quite the effort. He wasn't so much bothered about the implicit accusation that he was responsible for the massacre as he was about Link's knowledge of things he had thought were secret. Nevertheless, whatever the Hero thought he knew about the Key, he was totally on the wrong track here.

"No, actually," Vance said, keeping his voice neutral so as not to give away how unsettled he had been. He looked up. There. A twitch under the Hero's left eye. This time it was Link who had been caught off guard and the victory warmed Vance's usually acidic heart.

"Then ..?"

"What is it to you, King's Slave? It is a private matter. I search for something personal and precious." Something that would turn this entire affair to his advantage. But no one but Vance knew of that, of course. With the Demon Riders busy with the Key, he had sent out many parties of spellbound troops around the world to further his search. Soon. Soon he would be back where he belonged and everyone - the King included - would be under his heel.

Link mulled on this a moment, his face solemn. "So you admit it was you?"

"I was not there physically," Vance said with a smile. He held up his hands as if in surrender. "But then there are advantages of being a magic user."

"Magic." The Hero said the word with some distaste.

"You disapprove?" The sorcerer was genuinely curious. "I thought you were an avid magic user in the past."

"I grew wiser," Link answered. "I know where it comes from now."

Interesting. Had he been studying history during his time away? Or had he simply been taken with the superstitious ramblings of idiots who envied the power of magic but could not even hope to wield it. He almost spat in disgust at the thought.

"Do you now?" Vance asked carefully. "And what of the Queen? She uses it from time to time does she not?"

Link was silent for a moment. "What do I care what she does?" he said finally.

Vance gave a small nod. "Indeed," he said. Something came to his mind as he pondered over the conversation. "Do you know where the Key is?"

"I have no idea."

Vance narrowed an eye. The Hero had answered far too quickly. "Do not toy with me, King's Slave."

Link stayed silent, holding his gaze. One finger tapped on the hilt of his sword and the hollow metallic ringing both annoyed and strangely unnerved Vance.

"Anyway," the Advisor said, trying to change both the subject and his train of thought. "What are you so concerned about the death of a few pathetic commoners? Worthless people like that are beneath you, King's Slave."

Link barked a short, small laugh. He stood to his full height, and Vance had to shrink back. He cursed himself for being so cowardly, but could not help watch the Hero's hands carefully. If the man reached for his sword...

"King's Slave, is it?" Link asked. "Amusing. Shouldn't that title belong to you?"

He made a sudden move and Vance flinched. The sorcerer caught the ghost of amusement flicker on the man's features and he seethed inside. Vance scowled inwardly. These insects had no idea who he truly was. It ached that he had to be so patient waiting for the time when he would be restored to his former glory. Then, they would all see who would cower.

Link headed towards the exit. Pulling the flap back to let the orange glow of the afternoon sun ooze in, the Hero turned his head back for one last time.

"You should be a little more careful," Link said. Vance swallowed, trying to regain his posture. "There may come the day when I am considered far more useful to you." Link's voice dropped to a whisper. "And when that day comes, I will look forward to grinding you into dust, bone by bone."

He left with a sharp laugh, leaving Chalance Vance to let out the breath that he had held painfully in.


	20. Maze of the Heart

Chapter 19

The voices were insistent, tugging at him because their hands would not. Chizan found it hard to focus on one, each demand presenting itself as the one and only concern in the entire world. He thought he heard a trickle of accusation flowing under some of the words, but dismissed it as a ruse of his imagination.

"Please, sir. A little water for my family."

The Prince looked down at the wide-eyed round face of a Freelander boy. His back was straight and he did not hold out his hands, but his eyes betrayed the hurt in his soul. Chizan looked around the finely tapestried corridor, scanning the faces of the last of the refugees as they prepared to head north. They were mainly a group of mothers, children and the elderly. The young, unmarried women remained to fight with the army. The refugees all held themselves with postures of defiance, but he could see the same look of pain in all their eyes.

Chizan nodded, grabbing a jug of water and pouring it into a brown, leather water pouch. He watched with a heavy heart as the pouch began to fill; stray drops of liquid cutting a path through the dust on the outer leather before dropping to the grimy marble floor below. 

He marvelled at how a straightforward diplomatic mission had led to this: a last ditch battle for survival. He recalled Ren's angry words, the hint of blame clear in their tone if not on his lips. Chizan had been at a loss to explain matters as well. All he knew was that their enemy was dangerous and sly, a greedy mind housing a rotted, unheroic heart. Still, the looks Ren gave him pierced his soul. They had grown up together, Ren and he and, although they had disagreements before, the fury that smouldered in his cousin's eyes was uncharacteristic for any Freelander, not just his best friend. His former best friend, he corrected himself with an inward sigh.

The water pouch had swelled now, bulging like a juicy, overripe fruit. Putting the jug down, he tied the neck of the pouch with a firm knot and handed it over to the boy, ruffling his hair with a smile. The boy grinned back, briefly melting Chizan's melancholy. 

"Ho, Prince!" Chizan looked up to see cool, faded purple eyes levelling him with a gaze of disdain.

"Yes?" he answered, striding towards the man. He could see him more clearly now. The man's face was cracked with wrinkles and his legs were withered, small and useless. "Do you require any assistance?"

"I require answers." The man's voice had risen slightly. At the back of his mind, Chizan noted the hush that fell upon the people as all eyes turned towards them.

"I'll do what I can." The Prince stopped in front of him as he waited for the man to speak, his face impassive.

"We hear rumours," the man said, looking around at all of them now. "That you have been far from Heroic."

Chizan tensed, yet his posture remained still. "What do you mean?" 

"We hear that this war is because of you. That you dishonoured the Hylian Queen and that her husband fights to restore her reputation." He said the words simply, with no anger in his voice. Yet, even the calmest of words carried the weight of something more serious.

The people waited. This was no mob like in other – lesser – countries that would be baying for blood and would pounce on the smallest mistake. The Freelanders trusted their Prince and wanted to hear his explanation.

"No, my friend," Chizan said. "Propaganda from the enemy, nothing more."

"There were witnesses. It is the talk of all the world now."

The Prince breathed deeply, drawing on the ancient teachings of his forefathers. Anger was useless. Besting another man or woman with words was nothing but the desire for one ego to subjugate another. Facts were facts. The truth always stands out against falsehood.

"The Hylian King wishes to rule the world," Chizan said, walking around slowly so that his gaze could take in all his people. "I refused to give him that privilege over us." He saw the smiles flicker on their faces. "So, he responded like a child. If he cannot possess us, he will destroy us. But this child is clever. In order to have a pretext for war, he played on the Heroic nature of the Queen Zelda." His heart throbbed involuntarily at her name and he tried to ignore it. "He set a trap. One that would appear as though the Queen and myself had been caught in a .. compromising position." He turned back to the old man. "You know me well, my people. I would never steal the honour of any lady, Freelander or not. This war is based on a lie, but the King's aim is the same. He wishes our servitude or our destruction." The man held his gaze before a moment, before giving a small, sharp nod.

The Prince closed his eyes in relief. He felt a cool hand lay on his shoulder and turned to see his cousin Ren looking at him, amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"In all the time I have known you," Ren said. "I have never heard you talk so much. That must have been the longest speech you have ever made. Are you not feeling well?"

Chizan grinned, hoping that things were once again right between them.

"Walk with me," Ren said. "My honour guard will see to the people."

They strolled in silence, admiring the artistry of those that had created this hive. After meeting with his father, they had all moved to Narik's Rock itself. The ancient sanctuary was needled with marble paved paths and tunnels leading to the Labyrinth that lay at the centre. It was a home away from home, a place of quiet and contemplation. 

"Some people blame you for this war," Ren said, looking straight ahead. The Prince could not truly fault them for that. His people had lost their homes and family in the face of the largest army their world had ever seen. And for what? "I blame you."

Chizan turned, searching his cousin's face for a hint of humour. Dismayed, he found that Ren's expression was statue like. 

"It was not of my doing," the Prince mumbled. "Cyle would have this war, regardless of any action on my part."

Ren was silent a moment, before he added, "You have grown too attached to Zelda."

Chizan frowned, trying to still the churning of emotions within him. He was surprised to find his mouth had gone dry. "She is of many Heroic Deeds."

His cousin arched an eyebrow. "Beautiful too. And kind. A perfect match for our unmarried Prince." 

Chizan did not know what to say. Just talking about her made him feel strange and light-headed. He had been captivated by her  - her presence of mind, her inner strength. Yet, he did not know how to express that in words. Nor did he know how to act on it.

"Yes."

Ren turned abruptly, clutching his cloak in a tight vice. "Foolishness, Chizan. If you try and start anything with her, it will just add fuel to the rumours that you really did dishonour her." The Viceroy closed his eyes, trying to keep the snarl from his voice. "Besides. A Freelander and a Hylian? Such mixing of races is .. unwise."

The words were like arrows to Chizan's heart and again he was at a loss for words. His whole being desperately wanted the Queen, to hold her, to keep her safe, yet his mind saw the cold logic in his cousin's words.

Still, he could not keep his heart from controlling his mouth. "A marriage between her and I. It would be instant peace. Our two nations would be forever united." The Prince heard the giddy excitement in his own hopeful words and thought for a moment that someone else had uttered them.

"Prince Chizan, the lovesick puppy?" Ren said unkindly. "It does not suit you. Listen to yourself. You're hiding your selfish desires behind the pretence of desiring peace. You're better than that, cousin."

The Prince kept his face still, but inwardly burned with shame at the truth of the words. "I am sorry."

"Is it her you love, or her Deeds?" Ren asked quietly. The question confused Chizan, but before he could move to answer, Ren waved his hand with a snort. "This is not the time for this."

"No," Chizan answered. "It is the time for playing games in the Labyrinth." 

Ren pursed his lips, but the Prince had not been able to resist the slight taunt. "In fact," Chizan continued. "I think it is time for me to take my leave and prepare our guests."

The Viceroy looked at him, his expression not showing whether he was offended by Chizan's attempt to be rid of his company. "As you wish."

The Prince turned on his heel, his mind and heart awhirl.

*

Cyle could not help feel a surge of pride wash his soul as his eyes fell upon the army. His army. Despite the fact that the thousands of regimented soldiers before him were made up of many nationalities, the power they all wielded was all his. They had caught up with the main army barely a few hours ago. The troops stood in the wide valley, long shields in position, rows of helmets set in a sea of dull grey as a few birds drifted in the air above watching them lazily. His head giddy and his heart light, the King felt cleansed as if he had been bathed in liquid crystal. In the distance, Cyle spied the reddish outline of Narik's Rock. They should be there by nightfall.

His fingers trembled in awe. His entire life had been preparing for this. True, there was still a long way to go yet, but he was almost humbled at how close he was. He thought he might even weep.

A flash of red-gold sunlight reflecting off of metal stole his gaze. The King turned to see Link training with a group of men, whirling and parrying their thrusts. Grins nailed on their faces, the soldiers seemed to be enjoying their time with the Hero as he barked out instructions and advice whilst being covered in a film of sweat. 

Cyle felt Chalance Vance amble up beside him.

"The troops love him," his Advisor said simply.

"Not good, I take it?" Cyle asked, though he knew the answer already. His soldiers' loyalty should belong to him alone.

"No. The situation is getting dangerous."

"I wonder if he feels the same for them," Cyle said pensively as he eyed the Hero.

"He cares for no one but himself," Vance answered. Cyle had to smirk at this. Not only was it a bit presumptuous of his Advisor to reach that conclusion, but the description fit no one as perfectly as it did Chalance Vance. "Should he break from his thrall .."

Cyle turned. "I thought you said his condition was irreversible?" 

Vance opened his mouth, but no words came. The King felt a flash of annoyance as he watched the sorcerer's forehead crease in a frown. "This was your idea, after all," Cyle added. 

"The process was experimental." Vance licked his lips. "There was no way to be sure of the results."

"No, Chalance Vance." Cyle could not keep the heat from his voice. "I'm so close to victory now. So close. I do not need uncertainties. Nothing can halt my path now."

"His purpose will be served after this battle," the Advisor said, letting his gaze settle on Link. "Then we can remove him permanently." He turned back to the King, giving him a smile that looked out of place on his cold face. "Do not worry."

"Good," the King said, steadying his horse as she shook her head. He wondered if his steed was as unsettled as he was. A smiling Chalance Vance had about as much charm as a toothless, eyeless Ganondorf. "What news on Zelda? Is she there?" Cyle's eyes flicked to the Rock. 

"My .. spies tell me that she boarded a ship named The Fountain's Wings. It did not arrive at Morolak. A Freelander warship is rumoured to have taken it. More than likely, she will partake in the battle."

Cyle's eyes narrowed as he continued to gaze at the Freelander sanctuary. The sun was setting, giving the already crimson rock a darker hue. Like blood. His heart felt hollow, childishly hoping his soul could connect with Zelda's in the distance and that he would feel the spark of something familiar. 

"Where is the Key?"

Vance was silent a moment before he answered. "She is almost in our grasp."

The King chewed on his lip angrily, exasperated at his Advisor's evasiveness. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

The sorcerer looked at him, his eyes wide. Cyle could not tell whether it was surprise or injured pride he saw within them. 

"Of course not, Sire. Surely you know that I am your greatest well-wisher. We have come so far together. When I have the Key, she will handed over to you without hesitation."

"Right," Cyle grunted. Still he could not shake off the disquiet. "Do not toy with me, Chalance Vance, or else you will share Link's fate."

Vance's cheek twitched. "He approaches," the sorcerer murmured. 

The King looked up to see the Hero of Time saunter towards them, sheathing his sword.

"Enjoying the view?" Link asked; arms crossed over his chest and back straight.

"Another dashing pose?" Cyle said, the scorn dripping on his tongue. He turned his horse, so that he could face his one time adversary properly. "Do you practise them in front of a mirror?"

Link gave him a cold, humourless smile. His posture did not change, and he betrayed no self-consciousness. Cyle smoothed down his rich, silk tunic – creased from trying to fit his stiff, regal back - as he played with the golden rein of his horse. The sheer arrogance of the man disgusted him.

"A King and a Jester rolled into one?" the Hero of Time asked. "You must be so proud."

Cyle's fingers tensed on the rein as spikes of anger made his muscles tighten. It was bewildering that Link could annoy him so – regardless of whether he was friend or foe.

"Is there something you wished to discuss?" the King asked. His eyes felt tired. Why did all his conversations with Link follow the same path?

The blonde haired warrior looked towards Narik's Rock. "Just a little observation."

"Go on," said Cyle. Link was as bad as Chalance Vance at being ambiguous. He looked over to his Advisor, noticing that he had not spoken. The sorcerer was staring at Link intently, although his shoulders were slightly slumped. Cyle realised then that he should have just killed Link in the first place. Now it would be extra difficult, seeing how his army was so devoted to him.

"The men charged with detonating the Goron explosives," Link said. "They'll be out of sight of the battle. They need some way of being notified of when the time is right."

"And you suggest ..?"

"That I carry a horn." The Hero turned back to him. "I will, of course, be at the rear of the army protecting you." Link gave that smile again. "Since that's where you'll be positioned, no doubt."

Cyle gave him a resentful look that would have turned milk sour, but said nothing. He would fight, naturally. His restfulness had not abided, though it was now tempered by the sheer reality of war. Yes, he would fight, but he would be safe too.

"I can observe the battle from there," Link continued. "When the Freelanders are caught between the two hills, I blow the horn and this war is over."

Chalance Vance bristled. "It is not wise to entrust this to just one man."

"Fine," Link said with a shrug. "Let the King have his own horn. In the unlikely event that I fall and he still stands then he can call the attack."

Cyle ignored the implication. He watched Link carefully, searching his face for any sign of deception. Again, the plan was good. It was almost unbelievable that the Hero was so wise to the ways of slaughter. 

The hollow metallic echo made Cyle freeze. Link had drawn his sword and the King's mouth dried as his heart contracted in fear. Instantly, Vance raised a hand, his fingertips crackling with energy. 

Calmly, Link pointed the sword downwards then ploughed it into the ground, upending puffs of soil. The Hero knelt as Vance relaxed and Cyle caught his breath.

"Forgive my flippant tone, Your Highness," Link said, his head bowed. "But I am only giving you advice on how better to win this war. I am nothing more than your most valuable advisor." The Hero stole a glance at Vance who scowled back.

Cyle looked out towards his army as they prepared to make the final march towards Narik's Rock, their thudding boots reverberating around the valley. He looked down at Link, kneeling before him, his forehead lying humbly on the hilt of his sword. 

This was so sweet he could taste it. He imagined it to be milk and honey soothing his throat and filling his soul. He wished he could breath in this moment, capture it like a fairy in a bottle and relive it over and over. All he needed was the Key and with that the adoration of every being in the universe. Life itself would love Cyle Narawan, King of Hyrule.

"So be it," he said. "The honour of the horn will be yours. I will carry a spare, in the unlikely case that you do not get the chance." Cyle smiled, for once feeling too good to be bothered by self-mockery.

"Thank you, Your Highness." His voice was hushed and Cyle gazed on him smugly. Their eyes locked for a brief instant and something twinkled in Link's stare that almost burst the balloon of joy rising in the King's heart.

Cyle hoped that the sudden chill he felt was from the passing of the sun coupled with the gust of a cool breeze and not from the dread that had just hatched in his heart.

*

Chizan could not keep his eyes off of her; no matter how hard he tried. Occasionally, he would look at Zayna or Tyron as they spoke, but always his gaze would drift back to her. Zelda was still dressed in black travel clothes, though her current attire was freshly washed. He wondered exactly when the respect he had felt for her had turned to .. this. So foolish.

"Am I not invited to this .. diversion?" Tyron asked, giving an expression of mock-hurt. 

They walked through the corridors of the Rock, heading towards the Labyrinth in the centre. Only Ren would watch the spectacle as the Freelander army prepared for defence. 

"No, my friend," Chizan said with a smile. "Your Heroic Deeds are not in question."

"And ours are?" Zayna asked with an acid glint in her eye.

The Prince could only shrug, making Zayna roll her eyes. 

"There is something you must be aware of," Chizan continued. "No magic is to be used in this."

Zelda turned to him, her forehead slightly creased, her large eyes looking at him with a quizzical look. Inwardly, he caught a breath. How could a Hylian possess so much beauty?

"Why not, Chizan?" she asked, her voice soft. 

"Magic," he said, struggling to hide his revulsion. "Is wrong."

"What? Why?" Zayna asked with a laugh. 

Zelda laid a hand on the Key's arm, silencing her. "Care to explain?" she asked.

"We Freelanders do not use it," he said simply. He hoped that that would be enough, but saw that they waited for him to continue. All except Tyron, who kept his face expressionless and his gaze fixed ahead.

"The Joining, the ability to alter reality," he continued. "It is unnatural. Magic is an echo of that power. Eons ago there were .. Herzendi .. creatures, beings whose souls were twisted by envy and greed. In order to satisfy their lusts they broke the divine order that keeps the world in balance. They brought forth the power to be able to subtly affect the natural order of things. Thus, magic was born – created by evil to be used as a tool for evil."

Zelda looked down, pondering on his words. Chizan looked at Tyron who was looking distinctly uncomfortable. He knew the truth of it, the Prince thought. He must do, even if won't admit it to himself.

"How did they do this?" It was the Key who had spoken. "Break the natural order?"

"No one knows," he answered. "What is known is that more and more people were able to tap into this source. They became lazy, too reliant on spells and trickery instead of getting up and do some work. They grew fat and their minds regressed to childlike states. They were easy pickings for the Herzindi. The world would have been conquered had not a group of select men and women learnt to rely on the natural divine order of things and their own individual skills to drive them back.

"Thus, the first Sages were born. After a ferocious battle, they sealed the Herzindi in the Sacred Realm where they still wait, envious and hateful. The Sages tried to hide away all the knowledge of magic, declaring it a heretical learning. They concentrated their energies on harnessing the natural rhythms of the world, which they used as a source of their own strength. To the untrained eye, it would appear they used magic themselves. They were not able to prevent the birth of magic sensitive people though." He fixed Zelda and Tyron with a stare. "Legend has it that it is a curse; a test to see if those people would their evil heritage or embrace it."

Zelda looked troubled as Tyron turned to speak. "At the foot of Death Mountain," he said quietly. "I used magic to help our escape. You would not be alive now if not for that."

Chizan kept his gaze cool and level. "I would have preferred to have died in battle then to have fled with magic."

"What about me then?" Zayna asked hotly. "Isn't my whole existence .. magical?"

"The Key is not a force for good," Chizan said bluntly.

Zayna stopped short. "What?"

The Prince looked at her calmly. They were so sensitive, these people. They had no sense of what was truly good or evil. No wonder the Freelanders had kept their distance from them. Ren's words about the mixing of races floated back to him. 

"Look at it this way," he said, trying to defuse the tension. He realised that he may have been a little too pigheaded. "Is it not better to rely on your own skills and experience to make your through life instead of holding onto the crutch of magic? Hasn't your entire life been based on that principle? Especially since magic has such .. dishonourable origins."

Confusion creased Zayna's features, but her eyes still sparkled with anger. The Queen stepped in between them, the scent of her perfume distracting the Prince.

"No magic," she said. Zelda turned to Zayna. "I'm sure whatever this task is, we can handle it on our own."

Zayna nodded as they continued walking. The Prince's heart simmered. He disliked the fact that Zelda was a magic user, though he had not brought it up before. Had she been able to change her views so quickly? He looked at her, noting the thoughtful look on her face. She would learn, he knew that. He had set it in motion today.

"This is it," Chizan said, as they came upon a large, stone door. "The Labyrinth."

"I guess I wait here then," said Tyron. 

"I apologise. Ren insisted on only the Queen and the Key."

"Don't worry about me," Tyron said with a wry smile to his friends. "I'll just pull rabbits out of a hat." He winked at the Prince. 

Ignoring him, Chizan put a hand on the cool, hard rock and it rumbled open. The trio entered as a thin film of mist rolled lazily into their faces. The air was cool and damp and smelt of grass. Green and brown moss hung onto the grey, crumbling walls. A path was worn into the short grass on the ground. 

"So ... what do we do?" the Key asked, breaking the silence. She looked around, her eyes narrowed, her hand on the hilt of her sword waiting for the slightest hint of danger. Her face was tense.

The Prince pointed at a stone pillar raised in the centre of the maze. Hanging on a loosely swaying chain above it was a pearl-ish orb, about the size of a small child's head. "We get that."

"That's it?!" Zayna looked incredulous, while the Queen looked around quietly taking in her surroundings. Relief flowed across the Key's features as she fixed a confident look on the Orb. "What's so Heroic about that? It's pointless!"

"It is not the aim that is Heroic," Chizan mumbled. "It is the sacrifice taken to achieve the aim. This is a task that is always meant to be taken by more than one person." He said the last, hoping she would get the point.

"I still say it's foolish," she sniffed. Her fingers tapped lightly on her belt.

"One person's foolishness is another's wisdom," he said. "There are small islands in the south populated by the 'Isolated Tribes'. When one of them dies, they eat the corpse. We would consider such an act barbaric, but if you told them that we bury our dead they would gasp in shock and bemoan our lack of respect. How could we leave our beloved ones to be eaten by maggots and the creatures of the soil? It's a matter of perspective."

Zayna flipped a hookshot from her belt. Chizan remembered she had asked to be equipped with one for this task. "You know," she said, her voice coated with sarcasm. "There's a reason why they call those tribes 'isolated.'"

She took aim at the ceiling and fired, while the Prince rolled his eyes at the Hylian's ignorance. With a jolt, he realised what she intended to do.

"No!" he cried, lunging towards her. "Wait!"

It was too late. She shot upwards, slowly flying towards the Orb, bending her knees to narrowly avoid the low walls. 

Chizan clenched his fists, his eyes locked onto the Key. Zelda's eyes darted between him and the Key and, noticing the panic threaded through his face cried, "What? What's wrong?"

With a roar, a huge, scaly, clawed hand burst out from within the Labyrinth, its yellowing nails snapping through the hookshot's chain. Zelda gasped in shock and jumped backwards. Growling in exasperation, the Prince grabbed her wrist with a sharp tug. "Quickly!"

He led her through the maze, adrenaline coursing though his veins. He knew his way around, yet found himself hissing in annoyance at all the twists and turns as their boots scrabbled on the pebble strewn path, uprooting weeds that tangled their feet. His head began to whirl from all the narrow, curling trails. Zelda clutched his hand so tightly her nails bit into the flesh. For a horrific moment, he thought he was lost before he caught a glimpse of an orange glow behind one last wall.

Finally, they reached the clearing where Zayna lay, her eyes wide in shock as the hairy, horned beast loomed over her, molten energy pouring from its eyes and mouth. She edged backwards, her mouth opening and closing, but not releasing any sound. Letting go of the Queen the Prince drew his sword as the creature swung its claws down for another swipe. 

He jumped, rolled, and then jumped up again as the claws sliced the air. He thrust the blade in front of Zayna's face just in time for it to deflect the sharp talons. The Key flinched in shock. 

"Go," he whispered. She rolled out of the way, her tunic now coated in dust. 

The creature thrust its free elbow into a nearby wall and it tumbled down onto the Prince, his sword still caught in the monster's hand. Chizan grunted as he was thrown to the ground. A loose rock bounced into his face, making his head spin. The beast tore the weapon from Chizan's hand and he felt the shockwave of pain run down his arm. 

The Prince's world dizzied as he lost himself in the monster's glowing orange eyes. It's hand swung down, the razor-sharp nails looming larger and larger in his field of vision. He heard a voice float from somewhere behind him. Quiet, kind and thoughtful.

"It always takes two .."

Suddenly Zelda was there, plunging her sword into the beast's hand and taking the brunt of the blow with an anguished grunt. The creature howled in pain, lifting its hand up with the Queen still hanging by her sword. With a scream, it swung her in a wide arc and smashed her into the opposite wall. She stiffened with a shriek, but refused to let go.

"Move, Chizan," she gasped as blood stained her tussled hair. "Move!"

He scrambled to his feet, his heart flooding with warmth. He was deeply touched by her act. He could not think clearly and he tore at the ground, searching for his sword. He would not let it have her! And yet, a voice spoke deep within him with rock solid certainty. It was enough. Enough. Enough.

"Enough."

The creature froze as Ren's voice rang out. Zelda swung gently by the hilt of her sword, quietly moaning with pain. 

Zayna ran to her. "Let her go!" She drew her sword, swinging it wildly. "Fight me instead. Come on, let her go and fight me!" She snarled, her eyes almost as red as the monster's.

Gently, the creature set Zelda down to the ground, where she crumpled in a heap. Zayna hesitated, looking at the thing with a mixture of confusion and suspicion, before she darted to the Queen, cradling her in her arms.

"You have proved your worth," Ren said, stepping from the shadows as Zayna shot him a look of pure venom. "Both of you. Saving a life – that is not considered 'heroic' with the Freelanders, for anyone that does not save a life when they have a chance has a dead soul. No, willing to sacrifice yourself for another – that is the true Heroic Deed."

"I'm so glad you approve," Zayna spat blood with her words. 

"Do not worry. Our healers will tend to you."

Chizan shakily got to his feet. Ignoring his cousin, he ran over to the Queen, slipping and sliding in the dirt. 

He took her hand, his purple eyes large as he gazed at her face. With his thumb, he wiped the blood from her cheeks. "Thank you," he breathed. "Thank you so much."

She looked at him and gave him a smile that made his heart ache. "Anything for a friend. No magic either." She grinned. 

He grinned back and heard Ren walk up behind them. The Prince looked up and caught the angry look of disapproval in his cousin's eyes. He stood and made to speak when a dull clanging of an alarm echoed through the maze.

Ren's eyes widened. "They're here!"

*

A cool night had enveloped the land as they made their way to the edge of the Rock. Chizan's heart trembled slightly as he saw the scene. The air was hushed and felt heavy as if something terrible was about to occur.

"There's ... there's so many of them," Zelda gasped. He looked at her, saw the fear he felt reflected in her eyes. 

The valley before them was covered with hundreds upon hundreds of burning torchlights, small beacons of orange light littering the ground as if the stars had fallen to the earth. Cyle's army had arrived.

"We have to get ready! Hurry!" Zayna said, still holding onto the Queen.

"No," Chizan said, his tone still displaying its usual sereneness, even though he felt far from calm. "Only a fool launches a full scale attack in darkness. There is not enough light."

The Prince placed his hands on his hips and breathed deeply. "This night we prepare and a long night it will be, Perhaps the longest of our lives. There will be no dreams tonight," he said, his voice threatening to crack. "The nightmare begins at dawn."


	21. A Waking Nightmare

Chapter 20

Tessa watched as the archers scrambled up the side of the two adjacent hills, clutching to their bows. Peering into the darkness, she saw them lay flat on their stomachs until each hill was blanketed from top to bottom with armour clad warriors. She swallowed, her eyes large, unable to take her sight off of the Allied army preparing for battle. Sucking on her teeth, she saw shoulders pull creaky, wooden carts filled with Goron explosives, their muscles straining against the weight. Other soldiers stood watch, the flames atop their torches hissing and popping.

The farm girl resisted the urge to whimper softly. She had never seen the like of this before in her life and the depressing certainty of what was to happen as soon as the sun rose made her tremble. Tessa had tried to sleep, but after much fitful tossing and turning accompanied by shallow dreams of a grinning blood-soaked Link, she had give up. Getting permission from her Papa, she had made her way to the edge of the valley, close enough to see the groundwork for war, but far enough away not to be noticed. On her back she carried a large travel pack, Chitz the Imp hiding within.

"Haha…what's happening? Where are we?" the Imp asked.

"Sshh," she said quietly. "You know where we are."

"Where? Where? Haha…you both told me nothing!" She heard the sulky tone in his voice. Her heart pitied him. They had had to hide him away and he not had a chance to breath fresh air in days. "Just said we were in foreign lands."

"We're in Freelander country, Chitz."

Tessa almost toppled over as Chitz lurched against the tight fabric of the travel pack.

"Haha…what? What? A country full of Freelanders? Couldn't you have taken me to the Pit itself? At least the Demons there are friendly…haha!"

"Quiet, Chitz," she hissed, her eyes searching around for any hint that their commotion had been noticed. Nothing. People were far too busy this night.

She made her way back to the camp to find her Papa, stepping over sleeping maids and dodging dying fires that still carried the aroma of cooked food. Chitz whined quietly from her back.

"Waa…waa…haha. Oh, woe is me! Give me a chance to flee! Freelanders as far as the eye can see!" His voice turned wistful, as if he was reading from a list. "Let me bite them on the knee. Knock them on the head with a heavy tree. Fry their eyeballs and serve them for tea."

"Chitz!"

"What? What? Haha…what are we doing here anyway?" He sniffed.

"We're here to help Link, remember?" she whispered. The Hero's predicament had troubled her, keeping her up at nights. She could not understand why he was spending so much time with the King. Had he been recruited into the army? It was all so confusing and her Papa avoided answering any of her questions. "Besides Hyrule is at war with the Freelanders now."

"Ohhh…haha," Chitz said, sniffing as he paused. "About time too, I say. Haha…should've wiped them out summers ago."

"That's not funny." Something in the tone of her voice must have darkened his mood as the Imp offered no response. Feeling sorry for him again, she asked, "Is there anything you need, Chitz?"

There was a pause and Tessa thought that Chitz might have been really angry with her this time. She spied their campsite and walked on trying to ignore the grunts and the clash of steel as the soldiers trained.

"Actually there is," Chitz said finally.

"What is it?" Her voice was soft, not wishing to hurt his feelings again.

"A one-way ride back to Hyrule! Haha! Pronto!"

She smiled despite herself and saw Fran rise as they approached, his face haggard, dark rings lining his eyes. He had set up two tents for them. One was for her own privacy, the other for himself and the Imp. Her heart tugged between love and pain; love for her father's care for her and pain that she could not relieve his worries. They hugged and Tessa breathed in the spicy smell of freshly cut trees that she had always associated with her Papa. Her eyes closed as the embrace lingered on.

"See anything interesting?" he asked, finally releasing her.

"It's so frightening, Papa," she said, unclasping the travel pack and gently letting Chitz slide to the ground. Fran had set their camp a little way from the others so that the Imp could speak freely without being overheard. Imps were not popular most of the time and they certainly would not be tolerated on a battlefield. "They have explosives and there are archers hidden on the hills."

Fran looked towards the dark, hulking shape of Narik's Rock, his face an expressionless mask. "They're going to pin the Freelanders down," he whispered. His voice was heavy with grief as if someone dear to him had died. "Then blow them up."

Chitz opened his mouth to speak, but her Papa shot him down with a stern look. "Don't even think it, Chitz."

"Spoilsports," muttered the Imp.

Fran looked at her, his eyes stricken with pain and hurt. The look on his face brought tears to her eyes. It was not fair that he suffered so. Her Papa had raised her almost single-handedly, not even having the time to properly mourn his beloved wife.

"I should never have brought you here," he said quietly, his voice choking. "In the morning there will be death. Not many will survive to see the sun set."

Tessa reached out for him, bitter, salty tears flowing freely down her cheeks now. He clutched her hand and held it fiercely against his face.

"We came for Link, Papa," she said. "Let's just take him and go!"

She knew it was silly, but did not know what else to say. Fran chuckled at her words, before looking over to the King's tent towards the rear of the army. Tessa followed his gaze. She saw the dark outline of the Hero, crouched in front of a flickering fire, the King and his Advisor sitting beside him as they spoke in hushed whispers. Occasionally, Link would beckon towards the Rock or to one of the hills and the King would nod in response.

"I don't think we can do that," Fran said sadly.

"Then what _can_ we do?" She was annoyed. This trip had been a waste. Sadness hugged her heart. It had seemed so simple to her before. Link would surely join them and they could return back to Lon Lon. Perhaps he could stay a while, dance at another festival. So stupid. Her handsome Hero had changed and she did not know how or why. Worse, she felt helpless trying to think of a way to change him back.

Fran's gaze wandered back towards the Rock. She watched him, saw the different emotions dance on his face.

"We need to leave," he said.

"Join up with the Freelanders?" she asked.

"No," he answered, his voice hard. "We cannot head south now. The King has too many garrisons stationed. We go north, past the Rock and into the mountains. Hopefully, we can find safe passage there."

She swallowed, realising that it would be a while before she would see home again. If she ever would. "I am ready, Papa."

Tears flowed as Fran swallowed her in his arms again. "Oh, my poor, sweet little daughter," he cried. "I am so sorry for this. So very sorry. If your mother was alive, she would have beat me senseless for dragging you into this."

Tessa chuckled at the image of her small, kindly mother striking her Papa. "What about Link, Papa?"

Fran sighed. "He'll have to take care of himself. We have to find the Queen and tell her what's happened."

*

Zelda watched the darkness crack as the early red streaks of dawn approached. The air was chill with anticipation. She had not slept, her heart fluttering with anxiety. She wasn't tired though and thought that probably most of them had not taken any rest either. Her boots tapped on the raised wooden platform placed at the edge of the Rock as some sort of command post. The planks trembled slightly under her steps as she watched the Freelander soldiers line themselves into ranks. Their expressions stoic and their purple eyes clear, the warriors waited, armed with swords, shields and spears. Some, like Ren and the Chizan's father, sat astride horses, their hooves scuffing at the dirt impatiently. The Queen's heart was tight as her gaze drifted over the army. She knew that many, if not most, would not see out this day. She wondered if she would be one of them.

Her thoughts floated once again to Link. Not that strange that she should think of him now. In all the minor battles that she had taken part in during her life, the Hero had been there at her side, an extra shield that gave her the added confidence to fight on. This would be the first without him and he wondered where he was now. Link had gone to the castle to search for Zayna. Yet of course, his apprentice would not be there. Had he turned away, confused? Headed towards the Morolak Kingdoms to try and catch up with her? Or had Cyle caught him? The last thought brought a sour pull to her heart, something she did not need right now.

She peered out at the flickering lights of their enemies. Cyle was there somewhere amongst them, ready to kill her in an instant. Could she do the same to him? She turned inwards, trying to find answer, but only found a wall of uncertainty.

She heard the metallic clank of boots on wood and turned to see Prince Chizan striding towards her wearing the same chain mail armour that she – and all the others – now donned.

"Will it be enough?" she asked. Placing doubt in her allies was not something that was wise, but it was clear that they were severely outnumbered.

The Prince did not reply. Instead he crouched, scooping up some sand in his hand. He let it run through his fingers, rubbing with his thumb. Finally, he blew on it gently before lightly touching his forehead. Zelda watched in silence, knowing that something significant was happening, but not quite knowing just what.

"The dust of the Rock is heavy with the sacrifice of our forefathers," he said, standing up once more. "It will protect us. No harm will come this day." He looked at her with a cheerful grin.

The Queen grimaced. She realised the important of having a rallying point, a cause to believe in, but this was pushing it too far. Besides, it sounded far too much like magic.

"Chizan," she said softly, pondering over which words to choose, like a rake over hot coals. "Battles turn in an instant. One minute one side may appear to have the advantage and the next the other will reclaim it. We will win, I do not doubt that." She looked at him, hoping the sincerity would show in her eyes. She _did_ believe they would win, despite all the odds. There was no way pure, unadulterated evil could be allowed to rein free. "But you must be aware that it may not all be smooth sailing."

The Prince chuckled, and her mouth turned in dismay. "This is Narik's Rock, Your Highness. Here is where miracles happen."

She sighed and spied Zayna out of the corner of her eye. Link's apprentice sat at the edge of the platform, gazing up at the fading stars as her legs swung idly. The look on her face was pensive, the corners of her eyes tight with pain.

"I need to go see to her," Zelda said, laying a hand on Chizan's arm. The Prince nodded and she made her way over, sitting down beside her old Advisor. Zayna did not acknowledge her presence.

"It's a beautiful night," the Queen said, looking up at where Zayna's gaze lingered.

"But a terrible morning," Zayna answered, her voice a hushed whisper.

"What is troubling you?" Zelda asked. It was a silly question, considering the circumstances, but she sensed that there was something else behind her friend's misery.

When she did not answer, the Queen continued, "We all worry about this battle, Zayna. It's only natural."

The apprentice turned to her and Zelda recoiled from the look of pure dread in her friend's eyes. She had never seen her look so frightened. There was something else there too, a whisper of revulsion, though the Queen felt that the hatred was not directed at herself.

"I…" She choked on her words. "I…can't…"

"Can't what, Zayna?" Her voice was soft. "Tell me. I'm your friend. Together, we can do this."

Zayna looked up at her. "Together?"

"Yes," Zelda said with a broad smile. "Won't you tell me what's worrying you?"

Her friend shook her head, letting her gaze drop. The Queen sighed. She knew she could not force the issue, but it pained her to be so helpless. Zelda took Zayna's hand in her own and held it. Her former Advisor did not resist, but her face was still tight with worry. The feeling of powerlessness made Zelda feel small and vulnerable again. She shivered. _Link. Why did you have to go?_

She heard the scuff of boots behind her and turned to see the Prince.

"Come. Both of you," he said. "Dawn is about to break."

Zelda swallowed the fear as she rose. Her hand gripped the hilt of her sword, a film of sweat sticking to her palm. She saw Zayna tap her belt, her usual nuance whenever she was readying herself for action. This was it. She wondered what her parents would think of her now, preparing to charge into battle against her ex-husband, against her very own people. Her parents were long gone now, and there was a good chance she would be joining them by the time the sunset on this day. Her heart shook. Had she lived a halfway decent life? Had she ever really had a taste of happiness? She had no children to carry on her family's dynasty. If she should fall this day, her entire family line would end. _Link. Why didn't you stay with me?_

The trio all looked up at the same time, catching each other's thoughtful looks. They nodded, silently acknowledging that they were ready to stand and fall together. Finally, a smile threatened to appear on Zayna's mouth.

"Let's go cut us some Royal tail," she said. Zelda's mouth curled in a smile, but her heart remained troubled.

_Link. I'm so sorry for everything._

*

The two armies faced each other in stony silence. For an outsider it would have appeared as though there were two sets of statues planted into the earth. The warriors waited for the first light of the sun to herald the beginning of the end. Cyle watched it all, his breath gone as he tied the last pieces of his armour on.

He rode at the rear of his troops, his horse making him appear taller than his soldiers. His two other guards shadowed somewhere behind him as Link rode beside him. They were all fully armoured already. His generals rode with him too, reluctantly handing over key strategic decisions to the Hero of Time. The King strapped on his helmet, his head feeling tight in its grip. He let his eyes wander, soaking in every little detail. He saw the soldiers twitch in readiness, saw the spearmen idly running a finger up and down their weapons making the paint blister and flake off. Cyle heard the light tinkles of the fidgeting archers, the noise too distant for the Freelanders to notice. A smooth, curved black horn hung at Link's waist. Instinctively, the King's hand dropped to his belt feeling the hard weight of his horn.

Cyle cleared his throat as the darkness of night started to dissolve. "My people," his strong, deep voice carried across the valley, splintering the silence. "Friends of Hyrule." He acknowledged the other nations although no senior representatives of those countries had attended. All the men were under his command.

"You know why you are here. You have wives, sisters, and mothers. You know how precious they are to you." There was a murmur swelling through the men, as they grew anxious for battle. "You know what you would do if any pathetic worm of a 'man' tried to dishonour them." The voices grew in anger. "You would surely tear the culprit limb from limb! Or else how else could you truly call yourself men?" They were snarling now, gripping onto their weapons. "What then do you think of those that would do this to your very own Queen?" Cyle glanced at Link, as the men grew rowdy. The Hero did not respond, keeping his expression and gaze cool.

The thin edge of the sun peeked out from the horizon as Cyle drove his sword towards Narik's Rock. "These are the ones that dared sully your Queen! We demand vengeance! We demand honour!"

"Vengeance! Honour!" The men cried, their voices growing, growing. Some started to beat against the metal plates covering their chests. In the distance, Cyle saw the Freelanders fan out, setting the swords into an attack stance. He smiled inwardly as his soldiers swayed, ready to attack. It was so easy to trick the simple minded. Finally, as the rays of the sun fell on their faces, they charged forward with a snarl.

_Vengeance! Honour!_

*

The ground rumbled with thunder as the two armies ploughed into one another. The soldiers roared, their battle cry amplified in a thousand-voice hum that reverberated around the valley and echoed off of the rocks. Steel crashed against steel in fiery sparks, limbs entwined, twisted and snapped, rivulets of blood threaded through the dust like spider's webs and claret flew into the air before landing back in fine droplets. The Freelanders' many weapons poked and scraped at the Allied soldiers' shields. In return, Cyle's troops thrust their swords forward, searching for the weak gaps in their enemies' armour.

Prince Chizan reached back, took aim and loosed an arrow, reached back, took aim and loosed an arrow; reached back took aim and loosed an arrow. Rapid fire, no time to think, tears stinging his eyes. His throat was sore and his heart beat with unnatural, frantic quickness. The noise was unholy and the scenes before him like a painting of a madman. He picked off the enemy one by one, his arrows flinging them backwards as they charged. He saw the shadows of young boys in the corner of his vision, darting between fighters, their arms overloaded with clattering bundles of arrows. They searched out those who had exhausted their supply, eager to fill empty quivers. Others fell to their knees in front of the wounded, bringing full water pouches to parched and feverish lips.

A Hylian charged through the front guard, his blade red with sticky blood, and trampling any in his path under his horse's hooves. He did not seem to care a jot for his own safety. The Prince did not know if the battle had driven the man mad already or if he was a foolish, but somewhat courageous fighter. All he knew was that he had to be stopped. Calmly, Chizan cocked an arrow into the wooden groove of his bow, and pulled back the drawstring until it was taut. Making sure of his footing, he tracked the rider, the tip of his arrow searching for a clear shot as the man wildly swung his sword, separating heads from shoulders. He waited, the dull roar of the battle ringing in his ears. Almost. Almost. _There._

The arrow whizzed through the air, its metal tip spinning. It plunged through the rider's throat, flinging him off his horse. It was just an instant before the horse was brought down. Chizan barely had time to acknowledge the kill with any sort of satisfaction before he was reaching for an arrow once again.

Out of nowhere, a snarling soldier appeared in front of him, making him take a step backwards. There was no time for words, no time to reflect. The creature before him was stripped of humanity, no light of reason shone in his eyes. An angry, brainless animal. The man swung his sword, snapping through Chizan's bowstring and cracking the arrow in two. The Prince thrust the now useless bow into the man's face, sending a fountain of blood spraying into the air.

He stole a glance at his friends. Zelda and Zayna fought furiously, back to back. Their swords spun and flew, cutting all in their path. A mask of grim determination stuck to the Queen's face, though her eyes were hollow and dull. He was proud to be here, fighting alongside her. Even if there was nothing after this, even if death took one or both of them he at least had this moment. He at least could share this Heroic Deed with a woman who had earned his respect and more. Ren, Tyron and his father drove the soldiers back with spears as they sat perched upon fidgety horses. Chizan cast his gaze ahead and his heart crackled with hope. The Freelanders were pushing slowly forward, inch-by-inch their superior fighting skills outweighed their lack of numbers. They could win this. He dared not think such thoughts at this early stage, but could not contain himself. _They could win this! _Then again, he had no reason to doubt the outcome in any case. He thought he could almost feel the spiritual energies of his forefathers possess him.

Spurred on by this, Chizan drew his sword, clattering it into the nearest enemy. Their eyes spiked in shock at the intensity of his attack and his breath increased, revelling in the heat of the battle. He swung, plunged, withdrew and swung again. Flecks of other people's blood fell onto his face and he wiped them away with his sleeve, the chain link metal scraping his skin.

Confidence flowed though his veins now. He saw the looks on the faces of his fellow fighters and realised that they too felt the same. These outsiders were no match for them when they were face to face like this. Whirling weapons burst from hidden compartments in the Freelanders' armour, surprising their foes as they sliced through their flimsy protection. Ancient fighting techniques took over automatically like a second skin, as natural as being able to walk. Although they had access to machines of war, his people declined to use them except in the case of grave need, preferring to rely on their hand-to-hand skills. It did not matter this day, the Hylian King had not brought machines of his own, their bulk too great to be transported over the sea.

They fought on, driving the Allied army back. The Freelanders movements were smooth and graceful; they gave no war cries and did not slip or lose their footing. Spinning, twirling, dodging, there was almost an ethereal beauty to their attacks. Their enemies were panicked, lunging in awkward, ugly thrusts. Their eyes bulged like a child trapped in a situation beyond its control, their feet sliding and stumbling in confused stances. The Freelanders picked them off easily. Chizan could not tell how long the battle had raged, but he saw the sun slowly make its lazy path across the sky, its light reflecting off of the metal, covering them all in a faint yellow sparkle.

Something moved above him, a black blur. The Prince looked up and his heart caught in his throat. The tops of the two adjacent hills were now swarming with Hylian archers, their bows aimed and ready like an execution squad. He blinked, not believing what his eyes were telling him. Tears ran down Chizan's face as he realised what was about to happen. The awareness struck him like a physical blow and he stepped back in a daze. _How could they have been so stupid? How could they have ignored the tactical importance of those two, small, worthless little hills? All these summers honing their individual fighting skills and they had all forgotten_ _one crucial factor – battle strategy! _He opened his mouth to shout a warning, but shock had stilled his vocal cords. All hope of victory was shattered. The bitterness almost choked him. This could not be. This was Narik's Rock! _Narik's Rock!_

The sky darkened as the arrows were let loose. There was a hushed pause in the fighting as all eyes turned skywards. Like angry, black bees they rained down upon the Freelanders, easily piercing through armour and helmets. Another hail of the thin, lethal missiles fell and raw screams rang out chilling the Prince to his core. Still another wave came. Riders fell from their horses, as confusion and shock rippled through the ranks.

The Prince raised his sword and howled his defiance at the sky. Death would come this day and he of No Heroic Deed would be serving it. Everything Chizan had been taught about life crumbled into dust.

*

War was beautiful. Cyle sat upon his steed and laughed, his arms raised, and his voice bellowing. The Freelanders were falling back, the arrows tearing through the air, cutting them down. It was all so perfect. His soul glowed with smug satisfaction, drunk as it was on his inevitable victory. It was all thanks to Link. He almost laughed again. Link, of all people! This was too much. He could now break this stupid, painful world, take vengeance for all the suffering it had caused to him. He was Cyle Narawan and he deserved to be loved. He _demanded_ it.

Cyle and Link stood at the rear of the battle, watching as the destruction unfolded. Chalance Vance had scampered off somewhere, no doubt gone to hide. The echo of metal on metal mixed with the shrill screams of pain. The air was drenched with the thin, quick sound of soaring arrows. Occasionally, a brave Freelander would break through to where they stood. Weakened and battered, they would be no match for his protector, Link. The Hero took one on now. A Freelander barged his way through the last line of fighters, his armour cut to ribbons, his purple eyes smouldered with a rage that fixed on Cyle. He charged at the King and Link moved.

The Hero of Time rolled into his legs, tripping the Freelander as Cyle watched with amusement. The warrior snarled, spinning in the dust and bringing his sword to bear on Link. The King's protector drew his weapon, parrying a thrust in a deluge of hot sparks. Wiping the sweat from his face, Link cautiously circled the Freelander, testing the water with a few playful jabs. They were the calm eyes of the storm as the hurricane raged around them. The Freelander hissed, tiring of the game. He swung his sword, aiming for the Hero's head. Link caught the attack with his own blade and pushed the warrior back. The golden skinned man slipped in the dust, trying to hold onto his footing as the two swords locked. He spun away, their weapons disengaging.

Digging his heel into the dirt, the Freelander swung again. Cyle could see the man was tiring and Link deflected the blow with a lazy parry. The enemy's blade cracked the air in a wide arc. Link ducked, throwing a punch to the man's midsection. He back flipped at the last instant, leaving the Hero to box at thin air. Bringing his arms together, the Freelander fired two silver darts from his wrist cavities. They whistled through the air, sharp tips sparkling as they flew towards Link's neck. The Hero yanked his sword upwards, colliding into the missiles with a yellow flash.

The battle around him temporarily forgotten, Cyle watched, engrossed in the contest. He saw the desperation in the Freelander's eyes as the man spat in the dust, and was struck by the contrasting determination on the Hero's face. Link was doing this for him, he thought with a quiver of affection. All for him. It touched him in a manner he thought was no longer possible. It was rare that anything could bring the King to tears, but now he felt his eyes brim with salty liquid. How could he have possibly doubted the man?

The Freelander charged, sword raised as Link held his ground. Cyle watched nervously. Was the Hero just going to calmly stand there and take the killing strike?

Link whirled twice, his hair spinning, the chain on his armour tingling. The Hero's sword flashed during the first turn, snapping the man's blade in two. In the second turn, Link threw an elbow into the Freelander's face, making his head jolt sharply sideways as he slumped into unconsciousness.

Cyle grinned, wanting to laugh again. Another Freelander burst through and Link snapped to attention. The King held up a hand.

"Mine!" Cyle growled, tightening his grip on the reins of his horse and drawing his sword. He galloped towards the newcomer, his hair flying, churning the sand beneath his steed's hooves. He would not be denied a kill this day.

The Freelander did not see what hit him. He seemed almost like a surprised rabbit caught by a hunter's expert bow as Cyle's sword sunk into his chest. An almost maniacal look danced in the King's eyes as he pushed the blade in further. The Freelander gurgled in pain. The King leaned down until he was nose to nose with the warrior, the purple eyes looming in his face.

"You fool. You cannot stop me," Cyle hissed in a whisper. "None of you can. You fall today. You, your brothers, your fathers, your sisters. You all fall **today.**"

His victim slid to the ground and the King pulled his sword out, gasping in short breaths. The exhilaration made Cyle dizzy. He closed his eyes, savouring the taste of victory. Pulling on the reins, he gently trotted back to his protector. He noticed that Link had his bow out now and was firing arrows into the fray. Cyle sighed, content. He was satiated now. All he needed was for this battle to end so that he could celebrate his triumph.

*

Fran, Tessa and Chitz ran, an island of sanity in the blurring madness. The hunter held on tightly to his daughter's arm, reddening her wrist. Chitz hopped from rock to rock trying to keep up. They kept at the edge of the battle, hugging the side of the hill. The once green grass was now soaked red. Despair clawed at Fran's heart, cracking his spirit. They were not going to make it. They would die here, alone, no one to mourn them.

"Papa," Tessa gasped. The strain in her voice broke Fran's heart. He turned to her tear streaked face. She was pale and her pupils were dilating. She was going into shock. He clutched onto her, his soul begging for aid. Tessa looked around at the carnage, a numb expression on her face. Abruptly, she doubled over and retched, the battle getting too much for her. Fran grit his teeth. His poor, sheltered daughter had not had to experience anything remotely like this. Then again, he thought wistfully, neither had he. He knew that even if they did get out of here alive, they would be forever scarred.

"What have we here?" a lecherous voice asked. The hunter turned to see a Hylian soldier clamber up towards them, swinging his sword. The fighter's face was half mad, one eye bloated red. His clumsy approach loosened small rocks that rolled to the ground. "A nice little girly. War booty, I think." He gave a shrill laugh.

Fran's face creased with fury. "If you even look at her, I'll tear your arms from your sockets, animal."

"Oooh," the soldier waggled his fingers in mock-fear. "I don't think so, little man."

The hunter tensed, waiting to pounce. Tessa clung to his arm fearfully.

"No, Papa, don't," she whimpered. Fran knew he would die attacking the soldier. He was unarmed and the man was in full armour.

The soldier took a step forward, pointing his sword at the hunter's neck.

Chitz leapt from behind a pile of rocks and scratched at the soldier's face with a roar. The Hylian fell back in shock, the blade becoming loose in his hand. Snatching at the Imp's neck, he flung Chitz off with a growl. Fran lunged at him, but the Hylian was too quick, slicing his sword into the hunter's arm. Tessa screamed.

Fran fell to his knees gasping, as his daughter held onto his back just like she had when she was a child. The memory cut his heart, his wife's smiling ghostly image came to him and his mind drifted back to when she was alive cradling an infant Tessa. Happier times.

The soldier sneered. His eyes flicked over Tessa, menace radiating from his gaze. "I'll get to you in a minute, pretty girl." He raised his sword. "Let me just deal with the old man here."

The hunter slumped, unable to stop the pain from weakening him. He felt Tessa's grip stiffen, sensed the fear that radiated from her. He could feel the rapid hammering of her heart through his own skin. He had failed her. He had failed them all – himself, his dead wife, Chitz, the Queen, Link and most of all he had failed his daughter. The only jewel he had ever possessed in his life.

Fran flinched as the arrow punctured the man's head. Tessa blanched, her hand going to her mouth as the soldier fell. The hunter scanned the immediate area. Had that been a stray arrow? Or had someone just saved them? He could see nothing except the fighters absorbed in their own personal struggles. He had no time to ponder.

"Chitz?" he asked, getting shakily to his feet. Tessa still clung to him, as if she feared he would float away if she did not.

"At your service … haha." The Imp scrambled up beside them.

"Are you okay?"

"Haha…takes a lot more than that to beat an Imp. Haha…you look a little dented though, boss."

"You did well, my friend." Fran glanced at the gash on his arm, the blood seeping into his white shirt. His daughter gasped and, tearing a makeshift bandage from the hem of her skirt, tied the wound.

'Thank you, dear," he said, kissing her on the cheek. Her face was cold, but the smile she gave him warmed his heart. They would be okay, he hoped. But now there was little point in going north without getting his injury properly treated. Taking Tessa's hand in his, he led them towards Narik's Rock.

*

Zayna's arms ached. She used her sword almost blindly now, no longer needing to think about her actions. Thrust, parry, spin, thrust, parry, spin. The ground was now slippery with blood, some of it her own. Everywhere her gaze fell was awash with blood, severed limbs littering the once beautiful valley floor. Cuts stung her, and bile rose in her throat. She was sick. Sick of life. This was all her fault. This battle, this bloodshed. If she had not existed, Cyle would never have gone to war. The nausea her thoughts caused made her head spin. In ancient days mothers killed their baby daughters whom they thought were the Key. Her mother should have done the same to her. She should never have been allowed to be born. The realisation dazed her, as if she had been physically slapped.

She was still back-to-back with her old mistress, both of them frantically fighting of any attackers that came too close. Remorse taunted her, reminding her that the Queen was yet another person that would have been in a much better off situation had she not entered the world.

"Your Highness." Her throat was too dry and her voice was little more than a hoarse whisper. Swallowing, she tried again. "Your Highness."

"Yes?" Zelda's voice was stretched and weary. Zayna felt a touch of sadness.

"It's a been pleasure fighting with you." Her voice trembled as she spoke.

"It's not over yet, Zayna. Don't give up hope." She heard the smile in the Queen's tone.

Zayna looked up, saw the archers perched on the hills, calmly picking them off whilst they took no damage themselves. She sniffed, her heart a dull throb, her spirits broken. All her fault. Cursed. That's what she was. Her mind was rebelling against her, like a malign voice whispering false promises to a desperate woman. A hopeless idea ignited within her. There was only one sure way this war would end.

"It _is_ over," Zayna whispered.

Letting her sword clatter to the ground, she walked forwards slowly towards the edge of the wooden platform, her eyes wide as if in a trance. He steps sounded hollow as they reverberated through the timber. She was surprised to feel the cool breeze tickle her back, so reliant she had become of the warmth of Zelda's presence behind her. She felt numb in body and soul. The battle raged before her, a whirlpool threatening to draw her in and drown her. Just as she wanted. She bit back the tears, trying not to let her mind wander. She needed it to stay blank if she wanted to go through with this. The Key stood at the edge of the insanity. Only a few more steps would take her to oblivion.

"Zayna?" She heard the Queen's voice call her and tried to ignore it, blocking the memories the kindness of her tone brought. "What are you doing?!"

The Key closed her eyes. She heard the clang of metal and knew that Zelda was too occupied to prevent her.

"Ren, stop her!" Zayna looked up into the gold, impassive face of Viceroy Ren, sitting astride his horse, his stained spear in one hand. Their gazes locked. Ren's expression did not change, but he saw the intention in her eyes. Tugging at his reins, he moved his steed out of her path.

"Ren!" Zelda screamed. "What are _you_ **_doing_**?!"

The Viceroy ignored her and Zayna turned her gaze back towards the battle. Hacked and disfigured faces gave feral snarls as their souls were stripped away under the shade of the swords. The flash of the blades invited her to freedom, to escape. Holding her arms out, she closed her eyes again, waiting for the end.

Something rammed into her, winding her. They skidded along the floor, the friction burning her back. Dizzily, she opened her eyes to look into the panicked face of the Queen. "What are you doing?" she demanded again.

Zayna saw the concern in her eyes and it burned her. Tears sprang to her eyes. She was not worth this. She was not worth anything. The Key struggled against the Queen, like a child throwing a tantrum.

"Let me go!" she cried, as Zelda kept her arms pinned down. "I have to die! Don't you understand? _I have to die!"_

Her own words broke her and she sobbed openly. "Worthless, I'm so worthless."

"No, Zayna, no," Zelda said, her voice soothing. "This isn't the way. We can help you, I promise you, _I promise."_

"It's too late," Zayna sniffed, her eyes glassy. "Too many people have died already. Too much death."

"If you die," the Queen said, gripping her arms so tightly they hurt. "We all die. We're in this together."

Zayna looked into her eyes. The sincerity in them touched her, melted the pain in her heart. She relaxed and Zelda got to her feet slowly and cautiously. The Queen held out her hand. Zayna swallowed, looking up again. There was that strength of emotion again in her Queen's eye. Insistent, willing her to accept and so certain. Pure conviction that everything would turn out right, no matter what. With a shame-faced smile that hurt her face, the Key took her hand.

*

It was over. Cyle closed his eyes, triumph flowing through him. He relaxed letting the feeling carry him, cradle him, and comfort him. The Freelanders had fallen completely back now. They were clinging to their pathetic Rock, easy pickings for his men. The valley floor was now filled with only his army. It was time for the final push, the mock retreat to draw out the last of the Freelanders before detonating the hills. The signal for the retreat would be when the archers left their positions. Since they could see the battle from their vantage point they could decide when to end it all. All that remained after would that was Link blowing on the horn. He hadn't felt this happy since he had been a small child.

Messengers swarmed around his protector, as he stood as calm as the Rock they assaulted. "Make sure the archers hold their position. They cannot leave too early," he barked at one, who scampered off to relay the message. Again, Cyle noticed the look of awe in the men's eyes, their hunger to fulfil Link's commands.

"Tell the left flank to keep steady. They're letting in too many holes," he said to another, a boy barely in his teenage years. "I want everyone to remain in the valley until the very last moment." The boy nodded before running off, ducking to keep himself clear from the swinging blades and flying arrows.

"Magnificent, is it not?" Cyle said to the Hero. He had to raise his voice to make himself heard over the din. They were safely away from the valley itself now so as not to get caught in the explosion, but they were still close enough to observe the massacre.

Link's eyes darted left and right, surveying the battle. Cyle imagined he could see strategies and counter-strategies working in the man's eyes.

"I suppose," Link mumbled, distracted.

The King smiled. "You should take a moment to drink it all in. This is your handiwork after all."

"It's not over yet," the Hero answered simply.

"So pessimistic."

This time Link did turn to face him. There was something dark in his eyes. "Far from it. Just being cautious."

"Link, you have done well." Again, the giddiness took hold of him and he could not hold the words back. "You know, Chalance Vance wanted to have you killed after this battle."

"Is that so?" the Hero asked quietly. His lips were pursed and his eyes were like crystal rocks.

"Yes. The stupid fool." Alarm bells ran in Cyle's head. Somehow he thought he should not be telling Link all this, yet he could not help himself. "I think I will make you my joint Advisor once this is over. How does that sound, eh? Money, fame, women. All yours."

Link's eyebrow spiked, but he said nothing.

The King grinned. "I knew you'd like it." He sniffed, his expression becoming pensive. "I so wanted to love you like a brother, Link. We're alike, you and I. If only you hadn't gotten so irked over that silly ranch girl." Something bubbled in Cyle's heart. This was as close to true sincerity as he got.

"Yes. Silly."

"Then you interfered between me and Zelda." The King shook his head, reminiscing. "You just don't understand. There's nothing a man like you could have offered a woman like that. Nothing."

The Hero pierced him with a cold stare. "Are you always this talkative in the middle of a battle?"

"Hahaha. Come on now. This has ended. They can't touch us here now. They've retreated to the Rock."

"Keep those arrows coming!" Link bellowed to the archers on the right hand hill. One of them waved in response as Cyle let his gaze fall on them

"I'll tell you what I want," the Hero said.

Interesting. His protector now thought he could make demands. "Name it."

Link gave a shrill whistle, attracting the attention of some soldiers. He beckoned to them, his hand swooping and swerving as he gave them an impromptu sword-fighting lesson.

"There's a village in the middle of the desert. Not much there for you. The minerals there are now next to worthless." He paused, making hand gestures to some other fighters. He waved his fingers forward, telling them to hold their position in the middle of the valley. "I want it."

"Done." Cyle did not see a problem with that.

"And," the Hero continued, his tone turning sly. "I want you to rename Lon Lon Village as Malon Village."

"How sweet." The King snorted. "Fine."

Link looked up at him. "You'd really do that?"

Cyle shrugged with a sigh. He did not really want to think of the girl at this moment. "I hope that infernal Prince Chizan is alive. I look forward to crushing his windpipe." He pondered over his words. "Maybe I'll have it served for breakfast." Cyle peered into the distance, frowning. He spied a figure at the edge of the fighting. A familiar face. "In fact…yes…yes…it's her. Zelda!"

Link's head snapped up, following the King's gaze. The Hero chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment, before clutching his bow and flipping an arrow into his hand.

"What are you doing?" Cyle asked.

"What I promised. Her heart. A plate. Delivered to you."

The King blinked, coming to his senses. Yes, of course. Why had he been rambling like a teenaged maiden? This was what he wanted. The Freelanders dead at his feet. The Hero kneeling at his feet. And now, his Queen – _his Queen_ – grovelling at his feet. He most certainly did not want her dead, no matter what Chalance Vance insisted.

"Take her down," he said, his voice regaining its usual composure. "But don't kill her."

Link nodded, setting the arrow in place.

The King turned to his two other guards that trailed him at a distance. "You two," he said, pointing. "Go around and pick her up. Make sure the enemy do not get her."

"Yes, sire," they said, turning their horses with a click of their tongues.

Cyle gazed into the distance. _My poor little Queen. When will you learn that you cannot defy me? How delicious this is. You will be captured by an arrow loosed by Link._

The Hero of Time raised his bow and aimed.

*

The Freelander King fell from his horse, taking one blow too many. Prince Chizan ran to him, his heart panicked. Ren and some others huddled around, raising their shields to protect their liege from any stray arrows. Cradling his father's head in one hand, he used the other to grip his father tightly. The old man coughed, his soft purple eyes looking up at the Prince sadly.

"Do not worry," he said with a grimace. "Nothing more than a nasty fall. I'll be up in no time."

Chizan squeezed the old man's hand, resting his forehead against his father's own head. Up in no time. No time is all they had left now. He heard the arrows smack into the Rock with a sharp crack, saw the Allied soldiers advance as the Freelanders back-pedalled. Gently resting the King's head against the ground, Chizan stood taking up his bow.

He looked around. Zelda and Zayna were sagging, the strength visibly seeping from their bodies. Tyron lay hunched over his horse, unmoving. Ren's spear had broken in two; his knuckles now skinned pink with blood. Chizan closed his eyes and for the first time in his life, let go of his life long teachings and surrendered himself to the cold embrace of despair. Shame burned him, branding him a traitor to his Freelander heritage. He caught sight of another group of archers sliding down the hill, sending small rocks tumbling in their wake. They crouched before the wooden platform, locking their arrows into position.

"And so it comes to this," the Prince whispered. Raising his bow, he loosed an arrow. Then a second. Another. He aimed blindly, no longer caring where they went so long as they hit one of their enemies. He continued, the bowstring cutting into his fingers, though it no longer mattered to him. He just needed to be beside one person now. Chizan made his away across to the Queen, stepping over Freelander corpses, their faces as serene in death as they were in life.

What would he say to her? It would be sheer foolishness to admit his feelings now, in this situation. Yet, if he did not, he knew he would never get another chance. The Queen was leaning against the Rock, gasping for breath. Her hair hung in sweat soaked tangled strings. Her eyes and face had lost their sheen and bright cuts stood out on her face and arms. He ached for her.

"Prince Chizan," she breathed, giving him a sad smile as he approached. "How does it feel to live out your very own Heroic Deed?"

Heroic Deed. He did not answer, now knowing exactly how he could express his feelings without having to say them. It always takes two to take the Test of the Labyrinth. It always takes two to make a Heroic sacrifice.

"Flee," he said, startling her.

"What?" she whispered.

"Flee." The muscles in his face tightened as he let his bow drop. "Live to fight another day. The world does not need me. It does need you."

"What do you…?"

He stood in front of her, positioning himself between her and the soldiers. He raised his arms, daring them to strike.

"No," she said firmly, realising what he meant to do. With a shove she pushed him to the floor. He was surprised at her strength. "Not you as well. We all go together."

She glanced over to Zayna who nodded in return. Standing on shaky knees, the Key joined her at her side. The trio raised their weapons as the arrows started flying.

One rammed into Chizan's shoulder and he felt the spasm of pain run through his spine. He coughed, tasting warm, metallic blood in his mouth. All for naught. Their whole adventure had been all for naught. Another arrow struck his leg, forcing him to his knees. His vision blurred and the sky spun slowly around his head. He heard nothing, but the soft, sweet singing of birds. The voices, the arrows, the swords all faded into nothingness. All that was left were the birds. Dimly, he was aware that Zayna had fallen. What had happened to the Queen? Where was Zelda?

He could not concentrate any longer. The world spiralled into a pinpoint of darkness. He spread his arms, waiting for the killing blow.

*

Cyle waited as Link held the bow still. He watched him, watched the Hero's gaze narrow and focus on its target. The King's heart trembled in anticipation, his ears pumping with red-hot blood as his heart raced. He swallowed, wiping away tears. So easy. It had all been so easy. Link's thumb rubbed against the bowstring and the sun glinted off of the metal tip, highlighting its deadly sharpness.

He stole a glance towards the Rock. Freelanders fell all around his one time wife and he noted with satisfaction the faint lines of desperation and pain on her face. All that was left was Link's shot. It was only fitting that it was her former dear friend that would send the strike that would finally topple her. It would have been poetic justice if the Hero had been allowed to drive the arrow straight through her heart. Cyle knew Link would do it too, without even a moment's hesitation. But he still wanted her alive, _needed_ her alive, if only to gloat over how wrong she was. Link tensed and the King kept his gaze on the point. So close. So close. So…

Instantly, Link spun and Cyle's eyes stretched in shock as he found himself face to face with the steel tip.

"**_DIE!!!_**"

The King screamed as the Hero snarled, releasing his arrow. Cyle jerked his head, throwing himself off of the horse. The sharp tipped missile sliced through the side of his face, whizzing beside his ear before bouncing harmlessly away. The King crumpled in a heap on the ground, warm blood pouring into his eye as Link strode up to him with soft steps. He flung his bow away and drew his sword, the sharp sound ringing in Cyle's ears.

The King looked up into the face of the Hero. His body trembled despite his best efforts to calm himself. Link looked down on him with a look of undiluted serenity. There was no pity in those eyes and only a pebble's weight of disgust. Cyle had seen that look before many, many times. The look of confidence, blunted by humility, the look of one who knew his place in the world and had embraced it. In the darkest, bitterest pit of his gut, the King finally realised that the young man before him was and always would be the same, old Link.

"I am Link, the Hero of Time," he said, his voice steady as Cyle wheezed for breath. "I know no mother and I know no father, but I know _this:_ I am slave to **no one**, least of all _you_, Cyle."

The King scrambled backwards, dread pulsing in his veins. His hands clutched at the sand, letting it ooze through his fingers. His eyes dried and his mouth lost all function as he watched Link slowly raise his sword.

"Did you honestly think I would join you, Cyle?" the Hero asked softly. "You. Murderer. Killer of Malon." All Cyle could hear was the sound of Link's voice. The sounds of the battle melted away and everything apart from Link's image shimmered as if it were a mirage. "Did you think I would really kill Zelda? She was my only reason for living. Even when she married you, it was still the memory of her past kindness that kept me alive. Even if I could not bear to see her again, what we shared in the past was enough to sustain me." He paused, letting the blade quiver slightly. "And did you honestly think I wanted a whole village to myself? You're as stupid as you look, Cyle."

Cyle shut his eyes tight as the blade came down. He jerked as it smashed into his belt, breaking the horn.

"See this?" The Hero held up the back of one hand and the King could make out the familiar triangular shape of the Triforce. "Courage, Cyle, courage. A word that you know so little about. It was courage that helped me withstand your pet Vance's little game." He swallowed. "And it was Zelda. Even when she is absent, she does more for me than she ever could for you."

Link raised the sword again. Cyle's eyes locked onto the silver tip, swallowing as he saw that it hovered over his neck.

"But…ut…" the King choked. "You organised the battle! Everything was set up by you!"

The Hero winked at him. "This is the part where I save the day."

A blast of green magical energy threw Link to the ground, his sword flying from his hand. A faint film of green light clung to the Cyle's retina as the aftershocks of the wave passed. The air sizzled with energy as if sparks were trying to burst through the sky and invade the world. Link lay still, the middle of his tunic burning with a soft column of black smoke. The Hero's fingers jerked as he started to stir. In an instant, Chalance Vance was beside Cyle, gripping his wrist tightly. Waving his other hand, the sorcerer muttered something under his breath in a tongue that Cyle did not understand. The King felt a shaft of heat burn through his eyes as the world slowly dissolved out of focus.

When his vision returned, he found himself sitting on a grassy plain, the hills and Narik's Rock in the distance. Vance was standing beside him, silent. Cyle's skin felt cold and clammy, whatever magic his Advisor had used was having a physical effect on him. He shook his head to try and rid himself from the low ringing that echoed in his skull. Why wouldn't the thrice cursed buzzing end?

Cyle froze. His mouth dried instantly. The sound wasn't coming from within his head!

"No."

He shot to his feet as the pieces of Link's plan fell neatly into place. The low, trilling sound got louder and broader.

"No!"

The horn!

It was loud now, a shimmering trumpet like noise. The twin explosions rocked Cyle back to the floor, long flames tearing the two hills apart. Volcano like, they erupted in a storm of flying rock, grass and soil. The potent mixture dissolved into grey ash. The archers were flung from their positions, colliding with one another in sickening mid-air crunches. Slowly, the hills collapsed into rumbling rocky landslides, engulfing the soldiers trapped in the valley with waves of sharp gravel, choking them in crumbling tombs. A cloud of dust ponderously floated outward and upward.

Cyle watched as the last grains of sand in the egg timer of his dreams slowly faded away. His beautiful, magnificent army. Lost, all lost.

Still on his knees, the King threw back his head and arms.

"**_!!_**"

Chalance Vance remained calm as Cyle wept. Letting powerful, ancient words roll on his tongue, the sorcerer summoned his minions. Dark shapes peeled themselves off from the ground, their eyes narrow red slits, their tongues hissing. _Shadow Wraiths_.

"Ssssss…what isss thy bidding?" one of them asked.

"The Hero of Time and his companions. Follow them. Keep me notified of their plans."

"As you wissshhh." The Wraiths slunk towards Narik's Rock, fading into the dark places the eye cannot see.

Chalance Vance walked over to the King and, hooking his hands under Cyle's shoulders, lifted him to his feet. The King sobbed like a small child. "Come, Sire. It is time for us to depart."

*

Zelda coughed violently as she tried to clear the dust from her eyes. She stumbled to her feet, confused by the eerie silence. A few loose rocks tumbled, but apart from that all was still. She peered through the gloom trying to find a familiar face. She knew Zayna had fallen, taking an arrow in the side. Her momentum had dragged Zelda to the ground too. And that was when the hills exploded.

She shook her head, puzzled. The air was starting to clear, but visibility was still poor. Dropping to her knees, she felt around in front of her. Zayna must be around here somewhere. Her hands searched on the misshapen wood, splinters stinging her fingers.

"Zayna?" she called hopefully.

A groan responded. The Queen followed the sound, her hands held out in front of her. Her fingers curled around soft fabric and she found her former Advisor lying prone on the floor, her eyes closed.

"Zayna?" she said, gently shaking the woman. The Key's lips were parted briefly, though the dust prevented Zelda from clearly seeing whether she was breathing or not. "Zayna?"

Zayna's eyes frowned for an instant as she moaned softly before fluttering open. She blinked once, twice. The Queen saw the dark red stain on the woman's side and bit her lip with worry. Zayna noticed her concern.

"It's just a graze," she said softly. She blinked again, looking around. "What happened?"

Zelda shrugged. "I don't know. We won, I guess."

Her aching muscles protested as she got to her feet again, but she ignored them, seeking out the others. She found a haggard looking Tyron hunched over Chizan, tending to his wounds. Other Freelanders were hovering around him, bandaging and pouring spicy smelling liquids into his wounds. The Prince was gasping with short, raspy breaths.

"Will he be alright?" she asked, noting the arrows still stuck deep in his shoulder and leg.

Tyron looked up with a smile. "He'll live. Though he'll be stiff for a few weeks."

The Queen nodded, relieved. She caught a glimpse of Ren, bandaging his own arm, but the Viceroy refused to meet her gaze. She still felt the torch of anger towards him for almost letting Zayna walk to her death, but she decided to lock it away and address it later when the time was right.

She clutched at her tunic, rattling the chain mail armour as she peered out into the dust as it slowly began to fade. The sun had begun its descent back towards the horizon, its glow turning from bright yellow to burning red. Had they won? How? Why? _Who?_ And had it been worth it. The last thought was a whisper as she surveyed the path of corpses that lay everywhere from all the different races of the world. She knew she had no answers, her mind dully wondering whether Cyle had survived what had happened. Her heart did not respond and she felt relieved that she was finally rid of him emotionally, if not physically.

Her hand prickled. She turned it, watching as her Triforce symbol throbbed with a mind seemingly of its own. She looked up, her eyes trying to make out shapes through the curtain of dust. Someone approached. She felt no fear and was surprised at herself as she started to walk slowly out towards the valley. Zelda peered, trying to make out the person's features. She saw the posture, proud and strong. An outline appeared. The person was male.

The Queen clenched her fist and started to jog forwards. The man's head jerked as if he had just spotted her too. He hesitated for a moment, as if unsure what to do. She slowed a little, wondering if she had made a mistake. Then, after a moment, he also made to move a little quicker. Her lip quivered as her heart was caught between hope and caution. All thoughts of her friends were briefly forgotten. They were running now, eager to connect. She did not know how he had gotten here and neither did she care.

She melted into his arms with a laugh. He gripped her tightly around the waist, twirling her around. A grin she thought she would never let go shone on her features as she gazed into his face. Tears flowed down both their cheeks, the joy apparent in the twinkling of their eyes.

"Link!" she cried, her voice almost breaking from the emotion. "You came back!"

"Yes," he replied, sniffing. "I came back."


	22. Never Runs Smooth

A/N: For some reason, ff.net wouldn't let my italics show (except for in some places). Bold was fine, but not italics. I saved it as a web page too, so my formatting shouldn't have been lost. So, I've used bold for everytime I wanted to use italics, but I think it looks ugly and ruins the subtle nature of the character I was trying to express. If anyone knows what has gone wrong, plz e-mail me. If I can get it sorted I'll upload the chapter again.

Chapter 21

**You must kill Zelda.**

Link's eyes opened slowly as the icy voice rolled around his head, ponderously fading in a dissonant echo. The night was still and cool, a comfortable shelter from recent events. Moonlight, pale and broken, illuminated corners of the room, making his chambers seem like a hazy dream. His soft bedding tugged at him, inviting him to return to his slumber. His eyelids faded under the heavy weight of his weary fatigue.

**You must kill Zelda**_._

The Hero of Time snapped awake, realising with a deep sigh that there would be no sleep this night. Just like the previous three.

Blinking away the gummy film from his eyes, he rose, wrapping himself in a robe. He made his way to the marble water bowl set into one wall, his feet softly padding on the cold floor as he paused to light a torch. The glow crept its way around the walls in a shy path. Setting his hands on the rim of the delicately carved basin, Link peered into the water. His blurry reflection looked back at him, the sparkly blue eyes calm, the scars now nothing more than thin, black lines. 

Ghostly screams of pain floated in his ears, the memory of thousands of soldiers being buried alive still vivid. He closed his eyes to shut them out, but they still pricked at him. What had he done?

**You did what had to be done.**

Was that true? He dipped his hands into the cool liquid, disturbing his still image. So many people had died. He had never taken so many lives in his entire life. Not just Hylians, but people from other nations too. Not to mention the Freelanders that had fallen in battle. Faceless, nameless men and women. People he had never met, people with families and lives of their own. What right had he had to snatch it all away from them?

_If you had not acted, the King would have won and a lot more would have been lost._

He should have killed Cyle when he had the chance. He had won the King's trust; it would have been a simple task to just slay him during any one of the many nights Link had been under his 'command'. The war would have ended there and then.

**Don't be a fool! His guards would have slaughtered you! Even if you had killed the King, Vance would have lived and continued the war. You had no choice but to play along, make them believe you were one of them. Besides, you enjoyed it. Admit it. You loved the mind games. You loved the power you held over them.**

Link splashed the crystal cold water into his face, jolting him. Something had awoken within him during that time he had spent chained and beaten. Something malignant that had curled up from hidden depths to seize his soul.

**It was me. I awoke. The part of you that you kept locked away. Your warrior spirit, your primal fury – the one that glories in a successful kill, the one that is content bathing in blood. You gave me control and I gave you the edge you needed to survive. The edge that had been blunted by summers of uncertainty and inactivity.**

The voice chilled him. It was troubling that it referred to itself as a separate entity. 

**I am you and you are me. Different sides of the same coin. It's just that you chose never to acknowledge me before – never chose to acknowledge your whole self. We worked together – you and I – to bring Cyle down. We're the perfect team.**

It made sense and sounded temptingly right, but still the slivers of doubt taunted him. The voice lacked honour.

**Honour? The time for that has passed. It's outdated, a dead concept. Welcome to the new world. A world with a new, improved Hero of Time.**

It **did** feel right. People now could not even keep gazes on him anymore. They kept their eyes fixed shyly to the ground, regarding him with distant awe. It was something that had afflicted him when he was younger; the inability to act natural if front of people he admired or respected. Now it was being done to him, even more so since the battle of Narik's Rock. Freelanders would fall into hushed silence whenever he passed, their conversations trailing off into silence. He'd obtained the highest Heroic Deed – the willingness to sacrifice his own people for the greater good.

Link could not decide whether he liked that or not, and so he turned his mind to the one anchor that tethered him to life. Zelda.

They hadn't had a chance to really speak in the three days since the end of the war. It had been a whirl, tending to the injured and burying the dead. He was caught in the wind; half of him wanting to sit down and discuss his troubles with her, the other half chastising him for selfishly hoping to burden her with his concerns. They had moved back to the Freelander palace where they now were, Zelda and Link only having the chance to exchange a few brief pleasantries in the odd moments they had had to themselves. Link had to content himself with Fran and Tessa's company, after the father and daughter had dragged themselves to the Freelander sanctuary barely in time before the explosives had detonated. He had spent most of his time apologising for and explaining his strange behaviour to the hunter.

**Strange behaviour? Seemed perfectly natural to me.******

The Hero needed to speak to Zelda, he ached for it. He had to release the feelings bubbling in his heart; so potent they were that they threatened to spill out. No longer could he afford to lose her, life being so fragile that it could be blown away with the tiniest hint of a breeze. It was the only certain belief he held in his life and with all the disquiet whirling around his head certainty was something he thirsted for. He had to clear the air, regardless of what she thought or felt. Had to tell her that he loved her, that she had saved him. 

**What about me?******

Link blinked the whispery voice away as he made for a small box resting beside his bedding. He knelt down, opening the latch with a click. Something glittered in the darkness. Still unsure of exactly what he would say to her, Link had reverted back to his old ways whenever he wanted to try and break the ice. He'd gotten her a gift.

The large, vine-green jewel had caught his eye whilst he had gone exploring the battlefield on his own the previous day. He didn't know where it came from or what it was doing in amongst the crumbling, broken rocks, but all he did know was that it had been made to fit perfectly with his Queen. He tried to imagine her beautiful face light with joy when he presented it to her, but the only image that came to him was that of Prince Chizan. 

Whenever he had seen Zelda over the past few days, the Prince was there, always glued to her side. The Prince had been the only one of few people to fix their stare on him, his purple eyes flashing with warning. It scared Link. Not the hint of a physical threat from Chizan. No, he was terrified that she was going to slip through his fingers one more time. He knew he had to make his case soon and quickly, knew that anything pre-marital was severely frowned upon, especially now with all the sick rumours about Zelda and Chizan freely on the lips of most people of the world. He had to go for broke, all or nothing. Another rejection would probably break him, leaving his heart hollow and dead. But Chizan had spent more time with her these past weeks. Had she caught herself another suitor? And a Prince at that. What would Link do if she had?

**Put a knife in his back while he sleeps. It'll be perfect.**

Link held the fist-sized jewel in his palm, letting his fingers run along its sharp edges. He tossed it into the air, catching it with a fluid grasp. Again he felt the nudge of remorse – how could he fret over his own desires so easily, when people with similar dreams were now lying dead because of him? But life had to go on. He couldn't stand still paralysing himself with guilt while the world moved on without him. He would stagnate like that, and he had made a similar mistake once already in his life.

Tonight the Freelanders were holding a grand banquet, a festival in honour of the great victory. Tonight was Link's chance to catch some time with the Queen. He had to tell her then.

**Remember to twist the hilt. You'll enjoy it more**.

With a sigh, Link placed his gift back in its box and snapped the lid shut. He had to try to get some sleep, if only to get away from that infernal voice.

                                                                                                             *

"They're bringing some sort of wise woman down from the mountains," Zelda said to Zayna as the morning sunlight fought with the shadows for dominance. They sat at a simple table, their breakfast already going cold. "Chizan's father thinks she can help you. She has knowledge of old lore. Even Tyron seems enthusiastic about her."

Her friend looked doubtful, nursing a mug of something hot and steaming in both her hands. "I hope so."

Zelda smiled, trying to comfort her. "Don't worry. Cyle's gone now. No one is after you anymore. For the first time in your life you're truly free. Savour it."

Zayna sipped her drink frowning, not sharing in the Queen's optimism. "I wish I could believe that. Nobody knows what happened to the King, not even Link. If he is still alive, then he's still going to want me."

Zelda chewed on the inside of her cheek, frustrated. She didn't know what she could say to ease her former Advisor's anxiety. The Key watched her, a faint smile flickering on her features, as she understood her mistress' predicament. 

"Don't worry," Zayna said. "This is my fate. I've come to accept it now."

The Queen tried to smile, but could not summon up enough enthusiasm. She still recalled the haunted look on Zayna's face as she had marched, unarmed, towards Cyle's army. Certainly not the actions of someone who had come to terms with her place in the world. She had to be helped, and quickly. 

Zayna got to her feet, scooping up the plates smeared with golden, melted butter. "Anyway, let me clear this up. Big day ahead," she said with a smile.

Zelda sat back and sighed, watching the Key go about her business. Seeing her engrossed in such mundane, everyday activities almost made the Queen forget exactly who and what she was. Almost. Zelda felt that it was a tragedy that her friend could not live a normal life and felt an extra edge of determination take her. She had to be helped.

The Queen had other concerns. Zayna was right, they were not certain about Cyle's fate. If he had survived, then she still had a struggle ahead to reclaim her throne. Though this time she would have the weight of the Freelander military behind her, whilst her ex-husband had only a skeleton of an army left. She was certain that she would have the Zoras and Gorons by her side too, and the Morolaks when she **finally**could get word to them. And, of course, she had her ace in the hole – the Hero of Time himself.

A big day ahead indeed. Letting her worries melt away, Zelda let the pleasant anticipation that had tickled her since daybreak take her again. Today was Feastday; today she would finally get a chance to have Link all to herself. The thought made her grin unselfconsciously. She had been so excited that she had gone through the morning bumping into things and giggling in a dream like state. She was behaving like a ditzy maiden at her first Spring Festival and she couldn't care less. In fact, she enjoyed it. 

It would do her good to be away from Chizan's smothering presence anyway. She would also get the chance to finally steal the Hero away from Tessa. In the few glimpses she had had of Link, the ranch girl was always a few steps behind him, keeping her distance whilst her face betraying the fact that she wished she was closer. Zelda wondered if Link had even noticed Tessa's attentions or if he was playing some sort of game with her. She certainly hoped it was not the latter. 

The Queen felt sorry for the girl either way. After feeling the cold pain of being cast out from her home and staring death in the face during the battle of Narik's Rock, she did not want to waste the opportunity to take back what had been offered to her all those summers ago – Link. 

Silly and selfish, she was behaving like a maiden again. It was the Hero's decision on who he decided to unite with, she thought with a sigh. If he wanted Tessa, she would be happy for him. The girl was sweet and kind and would soothe his heart better than she herself could. Zelda would not resent her. After all, he had spent most of his time with her these past days. She wondered at the story behind that. Tessa and her father had apparently hidden themselves away with Cyle's army, following Link's progress. Brave, indeed. Showed a lot of devotion.

There were still things that puzzled her. How exactly had Link managed to win Cyle over so easily that he had let the Hero orchestrate the battle? It just did not make sense and no one seemed to have any answers for her. It seemed that Link had been reluctant to discuss the details of his adventure with anyone. The Freelanders took it as modesty, but she wondered if she was something else behind it all. 

She let her thoughts drift back to her feelings for the Hero. The Queen had tasted marriage once in her life, and she knew how men could be deceptive in their courting, a sweet shell hiding darkness within. How did she know Link would not be any different? Of course, he could never be as bad as Cyle, but did she really know what lurked inside?

Depressive thoughts and she shook them away angrily. They were silly too – she couldn't assume that all men were like Cyle. She did not need these notions, especially not this day. She had tonight and that was enough. Tomorrow was another day, full of possibilities and paths not yet taken. 

Happy again, Zelda stood up, making her way to her chambers. She had wanted to try her gown again, when a sharp rap at the door interrupted her. Zayna joined her as she opened it. 

The Freelander Prince stood in the doorway, dressed in fine, new attire and grinning broadly. He had a slight limp, his leg still recovering from the arrow it took. "Good morning, Your Highness," he said, his voice light. Chizan had changed somewhat since the battle, as if a crushing burden had been relieved from his shoulders. He was more relaxed now, more open. "I hope you are well. The day's radiance is made the more brighter by your shining countenance." 

"Ah…" Zelda said, feeling flustered at his words. She felt the heat rise to her cheeks. **Maiden at her first Spring Festival!** "I am well, thank you."

"We both are. Thanks for asking," Zayna said mischievously. 

Chizan nodded to the Key, barely acknowledging her presence. "I trust your gown is to your liking?"

Again, Zelda was startled. "That was you?" Her new dress was beautiful, and she was eagerly awaiting the chance to wear it at the banquet. She had thought perhaps Fran or maybe even the Freelander King had ordered it made for her. She had held a faint hope that Link was somehow behind it too.

"Of course," the Prince answered, his grin still in place. "Was there a problem…?"

"No, no," she said, not wanting to offend him. "It's lovely. Thank you very much."

"Excellent! So will you do me the honour of letting me escort you to the festival tonight?" he asked earnestly. "We have to celebrate. The blood of our forefathers saved us once more."

He had been rubbing that in since the battle's end. The almost-miraculous nature of their victory had just confirmed to him the power of Narik's Rock. 

Escort her to the festival? She noticed Zayna's uncomfortable look. Her friend probably felt awkward in this situation, like a child caught watching something she shouldn't have. Then again, she could not blame her. Zelda felt equally ill at ease. Chizan's intentions were obvious even though no one had spoken of them so far.

She looked into his face, saw his eyes wide with hope and expectation, and she sighed inwardly. It would be rude of her to refuse and she could not think of an easy excuse to give. So long as she conveniently lost him once the festivities were under way, she did not see any problem with his request.

"Yes, Chizan," Zelda said with a smile. She noticed Zayna's eyebrows arch slightly out of the corner of her eye. "I will."

                                                                                                                 *

Link gripped the jewel tightly in his hand as he stepped into the Great Hall where the banquet was already underway. He was dressed in a deep blue tunic, a shimmering cloak fastened around his neck. All eyes turned towards him and abruptly all conversation died to a murmur. On a raised platform at the far end of the room, he saw the Freelander King sat on a silver, pearl encrusted chair, flanked by the Viceroy Ren and Prince Chizan.

The King's face split into a grin when his eyes came to rest on Link. "Why, it is our guest of honour himself!" He bellowed, his voice echoing around the room. "All hail the Hero of Time!" 

The Freelanders raised their arms into the air, some spilling their drinks, as they gave a raucous and heartfelt cheer. Ren nodded to him, one hand resting on the back of his uncle's chair. Chizan remained motionless, no clear expression on his golden face.

Link smiled in return, bowing his head slightly. In his younger days, he would have felt his cheeks burn at the attention, but now he decided to drink it all in and enjoy it. This may well be a pleasant night.

**You'll be bored out of your head and you know it.**

"I thank you all, my friends," he said, as most of the merrymakers hung onto his every word in hushed anticipation. "I was proud to fight alongside you, though my part in the battle meant I could sadly not be physically at your side. Your King honours me and so do all of you. Your Heroic Deeds have been etched into my heart, and I pray that the Freelander Emirate stands for a long and prosperous time."

There was another ferocious cheer, almost deafening him. Freelanders ran up to him, grinning as they clasped his hand and uttered sincere congratulations, their earlier timidity with him momentarily forgotten. The Hero paid them little attention, murmuring his thanks automatically, as his keen eyes scanned the room. He walked past the long, polished tables laden with all manner of exotic foods, pausing only to briefly respond to his many well-wishers. The marble floor was slippery in its smoothness, the reflected torchlight giving it its own glow. Music floated in the air and the room was filled with the hum of chattering people.

Link cared little for merry making this night. He rolled the treasure discretely in his hand, his narrowed eyes trying to peer through the sea of faces, hoping to catch a glimpse of the one he sought.

**She's really going to appreciate receiving a sweat-soaked gem, you know.******

His eyes locked. There she was!

His breath escaped him and he stood rooted to the spot, his heart enlarged in amazement. Zelda's hair was tied back, letting her smile and eyes sparkle in the light. She wore a long, fair gown that, like the palace itself, shifted in colour. One minute it was a pale green, tiny diamonds glittering at the hem and waist, the next it blushed to a faint red, like a shy child meeting a new friend.

Link swallowed, unable to take his eyes off of her. There was no way he could ever let her go now. She was hooked into his heart, now and forever. 

She hadn't noticed him yet and he walked slowly forward, his sight of the room and all the other people softening into the background. Only Zelda stood clear in his vision, and he walked on in a stupor, his heart light as if it was floating. She smiled and chatted to those around her, oblivious to his approach. In his eyes, she loomed closer and closer and –

"Link!"

The Hero of Time blinked, breaking out of his reverie. Zayna stood before him, smiling.

"Zayna," he said slowly. Memories flooded into his head, fighting the Demon Riders in Melody Forest, the despair he felt at her capture. "Zayna! It's been so long. Heavens above, what happened? I thought I'd lost you." He grinned.

"You can't get rid of your apprentice that easily," she replied, biting into a soft fruit and making the juices run down her chin. Apprentice. She was still under oath to him and he had a duty to look out for her well-being. Shame burned at his soul.

"I'm so sorry, my friend," he said, his tone turning grim. "I let you down."

"That's not what I heard," she said softly. "Rumour has it you went searching for me."

"And I failed," he answered, shivering. "I was captured and …" He swallowed. "I was captured."

His apprentice searched his face carefully, her forehead creased slightly in puzzled concern. "Link, you did more for me than most have ever done in my life." She smiled awkwardly. The look in her eyes was genuine and the Hero looked away, slightly embarrassed. "I thank you."

"You escaped though," he said, with a hint of pride. "Looks like I taught you well." He gave her a playful smile.

She snorted. "Hardly. But I am looking forward to resuming our classes again."

"You shouldn't be," he said with a mock-stern voice. "You've been late for my lessons for the past few weeks and you have a lot of catching up to do, young one."

Zayna chuckled gently. Her eyes flicked to the gift in his hand. "Looks like I'm not the only one wanting to catch up," she said, her familiar smirk touching her features. She pat him on the shoulder, before moving to leave. "I'll leave you to it. We can talk later." 

Link smiled, grateful for her understanding. Fixing his gaze on the Queen again, he walked onwards urgently, narrowly dodging the other guests. He didn't stop for anyone now, his line of sight set, his intention determined. The music and voices swimming in his head started to annoy him. His stomach growled in reaction to the aroma of spicy food, but he ignored it. There were greater needs that had to be satiated. He held up his prize, ready to deliver and – 

"Is that for me?" 

Tessa smiled sweetly at him, her eyes shining with quiet happiness. 

"Erm," he said. A false grin was carved onto his face as his brow broke into a sweat. His hand was still held outwards, looking useless. He looked it at it as if it was an entirely new limb that had just sprung from his body that very instant. Tessa looked down shyly when he did not reply. 

**Ho there! I'm looking for the Hero of Time! He used to occupy this space, but now seems to have departed and has been replaced by Dobbin, the Heroic Mumbler!**

She dared to glance up at him, her cheeks reddening slightly. "Well?"

What could he do now? If he took his hand back, he would only look foolish. And she looked so innocent, so eager.

**If she wants it so badly, just shove it up her nose and give it to her.**

Link grit his teeth and, turning his hand over, dropped the jewel into her palm with a heavy heart. "Of course," he said. "Whom else could it be for? A sparkling jewel was only meant for a sparkling face like yours."

**Coward!******

She giggled, her eyes wide as she examined her gift. "It's so pretty," Tessa said, gasping. She surprised him with a fierce hug, and his bulging eyes caught sight of Zelda, looking up and seeing him for the first time. The Queen peered at him, an unreadable expression on her face. "Thank you so much."

**Let me have control again. I can get you Zelda. She won't be able to resist us. Trust me.******

Link and Tessa looked around, an awkward silence hanging between them. The Hero's eyes surreptitiously darted towards the Queen, anxious to be away, but feeling guilty at not being able to give the farm girl his company.

"Let me go show this to Papa," she said softly. Link smiled in response, hoping the hunter would not misinterpret the gift.

**You really are quite naive, aren't you?**

The Hero sucked in a breath. This time he would not be stopped. He had lost his gem, but he still had his words. He would march to the Queen and say exactly what he felt. And at this moment, he felt like telling her how dazzlingly beautiful she looked. Unlike all the previous times, he would not turn away either or try and hide. He would tell her those words and then ask for her company. And then. And **then** he would tell her everything. 

The last few Freelanders parted as he approached. At last, she was before him, her eyes fixed on him with a gentle gaze. A smile played on her face and again Link was struck, his mouth threatening to go dry. His jaw muscles clenched, refusing to let them fail him now. She waited for him to speak with an expression of expectation. He could say such things to Tessa quite easily, so he shouldn't really be so unnerved. Link opened his mouth.

"You look dazzlingly beautiful tonight."

Zelda blinked, turning to the sound of the Prince's voice as he strolled up to them. "Why, thank you, Chizan," she said, looking a little agitated.

**The son-of-a-mongrel stole our line!!******

"Hero of Time, it is good to see you again," Chizan said, briefly casting his gaze at him.

"And you," Link mumbled. He was crestfallen; feeling like someone had kicked him violently in the gut. His shoulders sagged. This night was turning out to be a disaster.

**So, how about that knife- in-the-back-plan? You know you want to.******

The Prince moved to speak again, but was distracted by a messenger boy urgently tugging at his sleeve. He stepped away, as the boy spoke in a hushed whisper.

Link looked at Zelda. At last, she was on her own!

"So," he said. "You look nice." His tone was confident, even if his words were not. An age ago he would not have even managed that. 

**You're hopeless!**

She blushed, and Link felt a stir of satisfaction. The Queen had not reacted like that to the Prince's words.

"Thank you," she replied. He was getting a little sick of being thanked all the time. Her eyes flicked over him. "You're looking good too, Hero of Time."

He gave her a lop-sided smile, not sure what to say next. As usual when he was in this situation with Zelda, his mind went blank.

"So," she said.

"So." He was at a loss, both of them looking for words, but not wanting the moment to end. Emotions danced on their faces, clear to any casual observer, but neither of them were able to express themselves.

**You're both like attendees at a Spring Festival. Are you thirty summers past or thirteen? I'd wager she's thinking exactly the same thing.**

They looked up, catching each other's gazes and laughing. 

"This is silly, Link," she said finally, her face relaxing. "We have lots to talk about."

"Yes, we do," he said, his smile still in place. He stepped up to her, standing tall and taking her hand confidently. She was mildly surprised. "Let's get out of here. Find a nice, quiet place. I have many things I wish to say."

"Yes, let's," she said, grinning. They were lost now, oblivious to all around them. 

**Doth my eyes deceiveth me? Are you actually making a first move? The Freelanders should be holding another banquet in honour of this historic moment.******

A cough broke their gazes. They both turned as one to face the Prince. There was a moment as one of his eyes narrowed, regarding them, but it was gone in an instant.

"I have just been informed that the Wise One of the North has just arrived. She is eager to meet us," he said. "Find the Key. We must make haste."

Zelda's hand dropped from his, and Link watched his chance dissolve into ash.


	23. Interlude in Hyrule

Chapter 22

Thunder rolled over Hyrule as news of the defeat spread. The heavens shared in the people's tears, pouring down blankets of rain. Angry torch lights shone defiantly through the night as the Hylians stood vigil over their fallen comrades. The wailing wind caught the cries of pain and buffeted them throughout the land. 

The denizens of Lon Lon Village stood waiting, huddled in the town's main courtyard. They were silent, the rain plastering their hair to their faces as they hung onto one another. Their eyes were wide, terror and false hope fighting within them. Somewhere, a baby howled distantly. 

They were watching the lookout as he stood perched on the Village's outer wall. Lightening flashed, illuminating his hunched, unmoving figure, his eyes staring intensely. He raised a hand, causing a faint stir amongst the crowd. Two young men - boys really, still in their teens – pulled on the ropes of the gate with a growl. The gate creaked open, washing the assembled throng of women, the elderly and the very young with cold air. The patter of the rain amplified as more water flowed in.

A Royal Messenger galloped in, his dark blue cloak flapping in the breeze. He brought his horse to a halt as all eyes fixed on him. The horse shook his head, spraying the people at the forefront with more water. They hardly flinched.

Two children ran up to the Messenger, one gripping the reins of the horse, the other handing over a water pouch to the rider. He tilted his head back and gulped down the liquid, tiny drops running down his cheek and chin. Wiping his mouth with his chin, he handed the pouch back to the child.

"What news do you bring?" a woman called out. Her voice was tinny, the fear clearly apparent. "What news of our husbands, fathers, sons and brothers?" She stepped forward, her eyes searching his face earnestly.

The Messenger straightened his back, letting his hard gaze sweep over the people. His face was grim. They watched, their hearts catching with terror. Lightening flashed, thunder rolled.

"They are all dead," he said simply. 

There was a brief moment as the words sunk in before the haunting wails started. Women fell to their knees and the young ones clung to one another, their faces contorted in grief. The cries turned to screeches; cursing and spitting their denials. Strangers comforted one another, and long time enemies came together united in grief.

The Messenger watched them impassively as his horse fidgeted impatiently, unnerved by the din. This was not the first time he had witnessed this scene. He'd had to deliver the exact same message to the other towns over the past few days.

Lorfor the Old stepped forward, biting down on his grief. Cold water dripped down his face, but he barely noticed. He had heard no news on his dear friend Fran in weeks, not since his old hunting partner had rushed through the village to pick up Chitz the Imp, muttering something about aiding the Hero of Time.

Link. Lorfor had been there when they had found the dying boy's broken body in Melody Forest. Now Fran had gone and there was no word on when he would return. All because of that boy.

"How did this happen?" Lorfor asked, stopping his voice from cracking. "We outnumbered the Freelanders almost four to one."

The rider fixed him with a narrow-eyed gaze. "The Hero of Time betrayed us."

The crying subsided slightly as a gasp rippled through the crowd. 

The old man frowned, disbelief clutching his heart. He blinked the rain out of his eyes. "Are you certain of this?"

"He tried to kill the King himself," the Messenger said, letting his voice ring out smugly. "He has thrown in his lot with the Freelanders."

"Is the King alive?" Lorfor asked as lightening flashed.

"Thankfully, yes," the rider replied. 

"How convenient," the old man said under his breath.

The Messenger didn't catch it and raised a fist. "Long live the King!" he cried. "All hail Cyle, Ruler of Hyrule!" 

There was a murmur of response from the people as they distracted themselves long enough from their pain to join in. Lorfor noticed that the younger ones were shouting enthusiastically. He understood the youthful vigour, but it still disturbed him. He saw some of the women's eyes burn with red-hot rage, their cheeks pinched with pain. He knew that they were those who had lost sons in the battle. 

"Zelda and Link are traitors," the Messenger spat. "They plan to invade us with their filthy, foreigner army. They wish to upturn our way of life, wish to cross _breed_ us with those Freelander animals, until the whole world is full of nothing but gold skinned, purple eyed freaks."

Lorfor felt the heat of anger simmer through his fellow townspeople and did not like it one bit. Caution was what was needed here, caution. His people were letting their emotions cloud them, letting this royal lackey twist them with his poisonous words. 

"The King requires your aid in Hyrule's hour of great need," the rider continued. The crowd was hushed now, and only a few sniffles could be heard. The old man felt their restlessness, their need for action. For revenge. "A new army is to be raised in defence of our great land. The young ones must join, women with no children as well. Training will be provided at the castle. Let no one think you are coward, let no one dishonour the memory of those who have fallen because of the treachery of our once beloved Queen and Hero. Hylian, Goron, Zora, Gerudo – no one is exempt. This is the King's order."

The Messenger drew his sword and pointed it towards the sky. "Anyone who disobeys," he said quietly as the rain ran down his blade. "Is to be executed on the spot."

                                                                                                                *

Cyle sat in the damp, dark dungeon buried deep under his castle, Chalance Vance beside him. A drop of water slowly fell from the low ceiling, echoing around the cold room. He could hear the faint rumble of distant thunder above him. They had been back in Hyrule for three days now, Vance using his magic to transport them quickly as they no longer had enough men to crew the Royal ship. 

As he had done many times over the previous few days, the King's hand automatically went to his face, fingering the long, hard scar that now ran down one side of his face. His good looks were now gone and his face looked like it had been torn apart and sewn back together. Cold fury bubbled in his heart, the scar a vivid reminder of the pure, unadulterated hatred he felt for Link. 

Chained to the wall before him was a small, gnarled old man. His arms and legs were nothing more than bone hanging uselessly from his withered body. Cyle had met the wizard when he was only a child. He had been the little nobleman's only friend, young Cyle running to him at the end of each day to hear his stories and laugh at his tricks. It had soothed him, made him forget his troubles at home. People had teased him, but he had cared not – finding a friend had been a gasp of air in a drowning pool.

Little Cyle had sat spellbound listening to the wizard's tales of far away places, of dragons and princesses. Of the Key. 

As Cyle had grown older, he had pressed the old man for more information about this most magical of stories. The power to bend reality and twist hearts. Cyle still felt a tremor in his soul thinking about it. Then, one day the reluctant wizard had mumbled, 'The Key and Counter Key are alive now.'

That was enough for the ambitious nobleman. He had promised his friend a share in the power, whilst subtly hinting that if the wizard did not do his bidding he would tell others that their relationship was more than a just kindly old man telling stories to an enthusiastic, young audience. A lie of course, but it had still terrified the man.

Together, they hatched their plan. The wizard had, somehow, known who the Counter Key was, but still wasn't certain on the identity of the Key herself. It was agreed that the Counter Key had to be removed. The old man had been the one who had kidnapped Zelda and Malon under the pretence of desiring the Triforce. They had known that Cyle needed to win the Princess' favour and so they killed two birds with the same stone – rid themselves of the Counter Key, whilst letting Cyle capture Zelda's heart. Then it was simplicity itself to make it appear that the King-to-be had killed the wizard. Magic had twisted the eyes of all those who had witnessed the event.

Once Cyle had found Chalance Vance he no longer needed the wizard. It had been his Advisor's idea to move his old friend to more…comfortable surroundings. 

"My army is gone, Beldrig," the King said slowly. "What do I do now?"

Beldrig raised his head to meet Cyle's eyes. The King's nose twitched, appalled by the filthy smell that pervaded the air here. There was a flash of defiance in the man's eyes and, for a moment, it seemed as if would not answer. Then he looked at Vance and the emotion passed, replaced by dread. Chalance Vance was there to keep the wizard in line using the only method he knew. Pain.

"Have you found the Key yet?" he asked, his voice choking from summers of disuse. He licked his lips, the effort of conversation draining him. 

The wizard had told him all the signs to look for when searching for the Key. Cyle had been pleasantly shocked to find the Key under his nose for all that time. It had seemed like poetic justice and destiny rolled into one. Cyle was meant to possess the Key, he was certain of it. So it did not bother him too much that she had escaped his grasp at present.

"Not yet," he answered. "But what does it matter? If I do not rule the Terrestrial World, what use is the Key?"

Beldrig gazed at him, his eyes milky and filled with a heavy sadness. Cyle thought he would feel pity for his old friend, and that the familiar stirrings of love would tug at him. But there was nothing and Cyle knew that he would get all the love he wanted as soon as he was Joined.

"You could use the Sacred Realmers to fulfil your side of the plan," the wizard said.

"How so?"

"Open the Gate. Let the Sacred Realmers deal with the Freelanders while you go to Jaroga."

_Jaroga_. The great city – terrible and ancient - that stood within the Sacred Realm. Where the Realm's ruler sat, issuing his twisted orders.

"How can I conquer Jaroga without an army?" he asked, feeling mildly annoyed. Once again his hand drifted unconsciously to his scar. He would make sure Link would pay for all he had done to him. 

For a moment, Cyle thought that Beldrig was coughing violently. Then he realised that the old man was laughing.

"All you need in order to conquer the Sacred Realm," he said, with the superior tone of voice that betrayed the fact that he knew something that others did not. The King's mouth twitched, angry at the impertinence in the man's words. "Is to kill the ruler. The Emperor. Whoever he may be. Their politics are much more cut throat than ours. They do not hide behind empty words and false promises. They do not need to stroke other people's egos in order to get them to do what they want. It's kill or be killed over there. Whoever kills the current ruler is _automatically_ accepted as the new Emperor. They must have had dozens of different rulers over the past fifty summers alone."

Cyle looked doubtful. He noticed the shadow of something unrecognisable fall over Vance's face in response to Beldrig's words.

 "You want me to just stroll into Jaroga and kill their sovereign?" the King asked.

The wizard shrugged, wincing in pain at the act. "That's _what _you have to do. _How_ you do it is up to you. After all, Cyle, you've proven to be oh-so-resourceful in the past."

The King ignored the bitter accusation in the man's voice and frowned, pondering his options. "I do not know where the Key is."

"She is with Zelda." 

Cyle snapped his head towards the sound of Chalance Vance's voice. "What?"

"Calm yourself, sire," his Advisor said, not looking the least bit flustered. "I was going to tell you soon." 

The King could not contain his anger and the veins in his neck strained against the skin. He was getting tired of all the games people played with him. His father. Zelda. Vance. Link. "_How _soon?"

"Other…parties have been alerted to your plans," Beldrig interrupted.

Vance's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

"There are other forces in this world that have a vested interest in what you are doing," the wizard said, once again adopting that haughty tone. "Your actions have been a beacon to them, telling them all they needed to know. They will try and play their hand as well."

Cyle felt a disturbing, cold trickle of disquiet. How had Beldrig known this, chained away from the world? 

"Who are these others?" the King asked.

The wizard merely shrugged in response, making his chains tinkle. "All I know is that you have to act quickly."

Cyle turned to his Advisor. "How do I get to the Key now that she is deep in Freelander territory?"

Vance looked at him, his eyes sparkling with something Cyle not quite interpret. "Do not worry, my liege," he said confidently. "The Key and her companions will be drawn out in the open soon. There, my agents will take her easily."

Agents. Again, there was too much that Cyle did not know about. He sighed. Now he had bigger things to worry about. "Vance, send out word," he said. "We require experienced sailors. A 10,000 rupee reward is available to any who joins us." He paused as his Advisor nodded. "The moment we have the Key, we will be heading straight for the Gate."

                                                                                                                 *

Lightening forked around the tip of Death Mountain, splitting the night sky in two. On one of the winding paths that curled around the mountain, two Gorons rolled, slipping and sliding in the mud. They stopped, unfurling themselves into an upright position.

"The storm worsens, brother," said one, his height and the lines on his face indicating that he was the elder.

"True, brother," the other replied. "We should find shelter."

The elder nodded, squinting through the darkness to find a suitable place. The rain and the murkiness clouded their vision, and the elder Goron's shoulders started to sag in defeat.

Lightening flashed, illuminating their sight. The younger one froze, his eyes catching something. "There, Thoron," he said, breathing excitedly. "A cave."

Thoron looked closely. "I see it, Jirunia." He smiled. "You have done well."

Jirunia's face split into a wide grin at the words. Floating on happiness, he followed his brother as they scrambled up towards the refuge, disturbing small pebbles that rolled down the mountainside. As they edged closer, Jirunia felt a flicker of recognition.

"I know this place, brother," he said between breaths.

"Indeed, brother," Thoron answered with a grim tone. "We must tread carefully."

They entered the cave and Jirunia almost immediately sensed the immense sadness here. The Goron were familiar with their mountain, sensitive to the scars it wore from the past. Every line, every rock had a story to tell and the Gorons knew each one well. Every grain of sand bore an emotion and Jirunia's people could tap into it, reliving memories long forgotten by others.

"This is where the Red-Haired Princess lies," the young Goron whispered. When he had been a baby, Darunia had told him the story of this cave, of the terrible events it had witnessed. Jirunia had visited the place once or twice before, spooked by the weighty feelings that hung in the air and clung to the rocks. If he listened carefully he could still hear the scream, echoing faintly. It whispered to him as they made their path through the dark tunnel, warm air drying their skins.

Darunia had told him that the Gorons had gathered here to mourn. Wearing the heat protective tunic familiar to their race, their King had waded into the lava and retrieved the corpse. Jirunia had not been born back then, but he could imagine it had not been a pretty sight. Her body almost reduced to ash, they had enclosed her in a golden lava resistant coffin and then had let it sink back under the fiery depths. Jirunia shivered at the thought.

"She was no princess," Thoron replied bluntly, breaking the younger Goron out of his musings. His voice echoed faintly around the tunnel. 

Jirunia felt annoyed at being corrected, but said nothing. To him, her story was so heartbreaking that only a princess could have lived it. 

"We will wait in the main cavern, brother," Thoron said. "Until the storm passes."

Jirunia swallowed, unhappy at having to taste the emotions that still lingered in that place. He had no choice though, but to follow his elder brother's wishes. 

Darunia was gone now, replaced by a new King. "I can't wait until we sign the One Hyrule pact," Jirunia said happily, trying to keep his thoughts on something else. "It is so grand of our King to want to unite with the Hylians.

Thoron snorted dismissively. "You really don't know much about the world do you, brother?" he said, eliciting a scowl from his younger sibling. Jirunia hated being talked down to. "Darunia did not wish to unite with the Hylian King. There was a very good reason for that…Our new sovereign." He paused as he chewed over his words. "He is wrong."

The younger Goron gasped, shocked at the words coming from his brother's mouth. This was no way for a Goron to talk, whether in public or private. 

Thoron caught his look and his expression softened. "Do not worry, young one," he said with a smile. "Just the ramblings of a cold and wet Goron. The sooner this storm ends and we get home to some hot food the better."

Jirunia grinned, instantly feeling better. 

A few more steps and the tunnel widened out into that familiar cavern. The ceiling now had a small hole in it and rain poured in, the drops drumming against the hardened lava like arrows against wood. 

The young Goron heard the voices again, blurred and elongated. They were louder here, changing in pitch and tone and bouncing from one side of his hearing to the other. It unnerved him.

_Doooo ittt, Linnnk. The Prinncesssss is moreeeeee imporrrrtannnnnt._

Jirunia did not understand the words, but he was heartened to hear the word 'Princess' amongst them. Maybe Thoron had been mistaken after all.

A flash of lightening dazzled his vision. He froze, thinking he saw something that was not quite right. Thoron had noticed it too, tensing beside him. They waited in silence, hoping for another bolt. Jirunia felt his heart thud. 

Thunder cracked making him jump and the cavern was illuminated again. _There_. There was no doubt this time. 

Thoron leapt forward, hopping across the hardened lava carefully. Jirunia followed more slowly, feeling the tremor of fear in his heart.

A large mound of dirt stood on the lava, something he had never seen before in his infrequent trips down here. Thoron was looking intently at something on the floor. Jirunia peered down, following his brother's gaze.

_A hole_.

There was an artificial gap in the centre of the solidified lava, dark and deep, wide enough for a few good-sized people to have fit.

His elder brother held up a hand. "Wait here," he said quietly, before jumping into the opening. 

Jirunia hugged himself, feeling a little lonely. He gazed around the cavern, seeing the moth eaten ropes hanging from the part of the roof that had not caved in yet. His eyes fell on an alcove where a broken, rusted lever stood. There was something malignant radiating from that alcove, something cold, calculating and smugly triumphant that sent a sliver of fear into his heart. He snapped his eyes away to break the memory.

The youngster heard his brother scrambling about below and felt uneasy. He wished Thoron would just hurry up and climb out. 

"What is it, brother?" Jirunia hissed. "What do you see?"

Instantly, all was silent. Jirunia felt a sob well up – had Thoron just hurt himself and gotten trapped?

"There's been a great deal of digging here," his brother's muffled voice rose from the depths, making him jump once more this night. "I cannot tell whether someone was digging _in _and downwards or digging _up_ and outwards."

The youngster swallowed. "Let's go, Thoron. We can tell the others and they can come back later." 

"Wait." There was something unreadable in his brother's voice, but it scared him nonetheless.

"What is it?" Jirunia was almost whimpering now. He just wanted the storm to be over with so he could just go home. 

"The Red Haired Hylian," Thoron answered, the shock clear in his tone now. "She has gone."


	24. A New Direction

Chapter 23

The Queen jogged down the hallway, fretting with impatience. Torchlights threw a warm glow on to the thick, patterned carpet in her path, but she had no time to admire the artistry. She had dashed back to her chambers to change out of her gown, needing something a bit more practical to wear for the meeting with the Wise One. She'd settled on a plain, brown dress and simple shoes – another gift from the Freelanders. Reaching back, she pulled the pin from her hair and let it drop around her shoulders.

Zelda took in a deep breath, excited that things were finally progressing. She increased her steps, eager to listen to the Freelander sage's wisdom. Zayna would probably be there already and the Queen hoped she had not delayed things for too long. The poor girl must be waiting in agony. There was a flicker of caution in her heart – a warning that this might be no more than a false hope. She pushed the thought away. This had to be the help they needed, she was certain –

The hand grabbed her from the corridor mid-stride making her yelp in surprise.

Zelda blinked, finding herself in a dark, narrow passageway. Her head spun slightly, still confused from being pulled in. She looked up at her would-be kidnapper.

"Link!" she hissed with mild reprove as she rubbed her arm. "You scared me."

"We have to talk," he said, stepping closer. He was still dressed in his party clothes. His eyes were serene and his posture relaxed, but she saw some sort of conflict playing on his face.

"We will," she said. "But not right now. Chizan wants us to meet with this Wise One." Her thoughts turned to Link's apprentice again and she felt giddy. "I think we can help Zayna, I _really_ do. I just have this _feeling._"

"They can wait," he said, his voice calm.

"But…"

"They can _wait._"

She couldn't help but respond to his smile in kind and she relaxed, letting her shoulders sag a little. A few more moments, she hoped Zayna could hold out a few more moments. It was selfish, she knew, but she had to get this over and done with.

He was standing awfully close to her. His broad shoulders made her feel small. Worse was his deep stare that seemed to scrutinise her so intently. What was in those eyes – Anger? Passion? She did not think the latter was appropriate, especially as they were here unchaperoned. She swallowed, feeling unnerved. 

She let her gaze examine him, taking in his eyes and his fading scars. Her stare dropped down and Zelda noticed that one collar was turned inwards. Her hand rose and he stiffened, eyes mildly wide.

With a quick flick, she corrected the offending item, letting her fingers smooth out the neckline of his tunic.

"Oh," he said, and she laughed happily at his misinterpretation of her actions.

She sighed, the amusement opening a warm spring in her heart. "So, Link," she said, her voice no more than a sparkly whisper. "What was so important that you had to put off saving the world to tell me about it?"

He leaned forward slightly and she saw the conflict again in his face. She could not quite interpret it though, his expression rotating between the naive humility she was familiar with to something that was altogether quite…darker.

"You are," he whispered, his eyes darting as if he was not quite sure he had said what he had.

Zelda's heart thudded. She stepped back and found herself reversing into a cold wall. The sensation was jolting, the coolness a sharp contrast to the heat she was suddenly feeling. The Queen felt uncomfortable. There was something not quite right here. Brought up under strict Hylian customs she was not used to this kind of proximity from someone she was not married to. 

As if noticing her uneasiness, he stepped back with an awkward smile. He bowed slightly, a gallant gesture. She noticed that his face and returned to its more bashful appearance. For some reason that relieved her. 

"Me?" she said, struggling to get the words out. "I am no use to anyone."

He blinked, the look on his face almost comical. "No, no, no," he said, his voice soft. "That's not true! You _know_ it's not true, you're the Queen! You're more important than any of us – than _all _of us."

She felt her cheeks redden slightly at the earnestness in his voice. "Your words scare me."

"But they're all _true_, Zelda," he said. Her eyebrow jerked at his use of her name. "I don't know how you can't see that. I think you can. I hope." He was rambling now, lost. "Everyone loves you. We love you."

We? Did he mean himself and Tyron and Zayna…?

"How can you say that, Link?" she said, letting her gaze drop to the floor. She was relieved, glad that it was finally out in the open. "After what I did to you?"

He frowned, chewing on his lip. "You did what you thought was the right thing to do. That's what you _always_ do."

"Even if it means hurting the ones I…" She paused. She couldn't say it; it was too soon after the end of her marriage. "Hurting my friends?"

"Especially if it does." 

She did not want to think on that. "Link," she said, her voice soft. He looked at her intently, waiting. "What did you do all by yourself for all those summers?"

He shrugged. "I sat and thought about things."

"Things?"

"About you." Again, that stare. She looked away.

"Thinking about married women," she said, a mischievous lilt to her voice. "Not very pious or heroic."

A playful scowl knitted its way across his face. "I know." He paused. "But it kept me going, in a twisted sort of way."

Zelda bit on her lower lip, not wanting to ponder on his words. "Did you have any friends there?"

His mouth twitched in thought. "Just one. A good man, loyal. He was young, tried to dress and act like me."

Zelda's eyes narrowed playfully. "He wore green all day and sulked?"

He chuckled. "Imitation is a sincere expression of flattery. Or so Tyron says."

"So he does." She took in a deep breath. "So…" She scuffed her shoe on the ground. "Any female friends out there?"

"If I had, I would have married one. I'm not going to play around." He winked. "That's not very pious or heroic."

She smiled, though inwardly she thought of his actions around Tessa. "Right."

His eyes sharpened, drilling through her. "What about you? Did you think about me while you were married? Were you happy?"

"Link, don't," she said, looking away and feeling uncomfortable again. "That's not fair."

"Why not? You asked me." His voice started to gain an edge to it.

"That's different. You weren't married."

He looked down, shame on his face. "I'm sorry."

"I _was_ happy. For a while at least," she said, her mind going back to that time. There _were_ good times, she could not deny that. The days out to other nations, the picnics in the castle, the lazy, sweet chats they had at night talking about the future, about how many children they would have. But the memories were all hollow now; now that she knew there was no sincerity behind them. At least not on her ex-husband's part. _Sincerity. _That's all she wanted from people now. Such a small request, but so difficult for others to give."No, I didn't think about you. Not in the way you're suggesting anyway."

"I shouldn't have asked. It was stupid and dishonourable of me."

"Then it all went sour…" Her voice trailed off, talking more to herself than Link.

She glanced up, caught him gazing again, but he did not press her for more answers. She was grateful for that.

Her head swam. She felt locked by his intense stare.

"What do you see?" Her words were nothing more than barely audible breaths.

"I see a strong, beautiful woman who doesn't have to feel all that pain she hides away." She felt the tears, letting his words bury down into thoughts and feelings she had tried to lock away. Yet, she wanted to laugh too. His words were absurd, like something from a child's tale. _But he says them with such genuineness. _"Most of all I see the kindest person I have ever met. And anyone who shows such kindness in the world we live in is much more deserving of _this_ than I am."

Her eyes flicked to his upturned hand, letting her gaze trace the triangular lines of the Triforce of Courage.

She looked at his face again, feeling her eyes widen, knowing that her face must be contorting with all the conflicting emotions rushing to the surface. "I made a mistake didn't I?" she said. "I should never have married Cyle. I was afraid, Link, afraid. I didn't want to marry some stuffy, overweight nobleman that didn't care a jot about me. And when Cyle appeared, it was like a … a…I don't know what. A _chance. _A way to make sure my fears would never be realised." She sniffed. "I was so selfish. I handed the world over to him – how can anyone forgive me for that? How can anyone say I've done any good after that?"

The words flowed, and she remembered that familiar feeling again. The feeling that she could tell him anything about herself.

"You saved me," he said after a pause. "I was always lost without you. Every time we faced a new threat I always did it for you." She could hear his slow breathing and it was almost hypnotic. "And you're far from selfish."

"Stop," she said, but her mind raced. Saved him from what exactly? "I don't deserve this." 

Her eyes met his. "What do _you_ see, Your Highness?"

She smiled. "I see a _good_ man," she said, mimicking the words she had said about Cyle so many summers ago. "An honourable man." Something twitched on his face at that. 

_The man I should have married_. She wanted to say it, but couldn't. There was nothing she could offer him except disappointed hopes and it just did not seem right when the world was spinning away wildly around them. The optimism from earlier in the day faded away. "A man who will make some lucky girl a good husband."

Link's head jerked as if he had been physically slapped. Her face twisted, scared that she had hurt him again. _She couldn't say it._

"I don't want to lose you!" The words blurted from his mouth, like a child's desperate plea.

_She couldn't say it._

_But you want to._

"Link…" She tried to turn away, not wanting to cry. "I'm always here for you. Always have been."

"No," he said, a hint of anger in his voice. "Not like _that._ That's nothing, a pale imitation. Not as friends. You'll be close, but distant. I would lose you like that." He swallowed. "I _miss _you."

_She couldn't say it._

_You ache to say it._

"I don't want to lose you," he continued. "Not again."

Zelda turned back to him, willing her face to be calm. She was battling with herself – she should get going, she should stay. Zayna wanted her, Link wanted her, Zayna wanted her, Link needed her. Zayna, Link, Zayna, Link, Link, Link.

_She couldn't say it. _ 

They held each other's gazes, Zelda half turning again, ready to leave. Hesitation held her back.

_But you've already wasted one chance all that time ago._

"I don't want to lose you either, Link," she whispered.

His face melted in relief and he stepped forward. Zelda waited, trembling, her eyes closed.

There were tears and there was hope. There was acceptance and conviction. There were embraces and there were words whispered, meaningless, but full of weight.

And there was forgiveness.

                                                                                                                    *

"I need to get out of here."

Lorfor the Old sat at the bar, a lonely denizen of The Queen's Ring tavern. The inn had stayed open all night, in case anyone wanted to drown their sorrows with their friends. No one but him had taken up the offer. Outside, he heard the angry shouts and the never-ending wails as the townsfolk vented their rage. The rain had started to subside, but it was still dark enough to hide the dawn. He had not slept this night – who could, with that racket going on? 

The tavern keeper watched him carefully while he cleaned the inside of a mug with a white cloth. "Where would you go? No offence, but you're a bit too old to pack up and start a new trade."

Lorfor let out a breath through pursed lips and slumped on the hard, wooden tabletop. The man was right.

"It's mad out there," the old hunter said. "And it's only going to get worse. Especially with the King stirring things up."

"Aye," the tavern keeper said, his thoughtful gaze wandering to the door, where the orange light of a fire seeped in under the cracks. "But you can't expect them not to be angry." He put the mug in place and, after a moment's consideration, picked a new one to clean. Lorfor did not think any of the mugs looked particularly dirty anyway. "Their minds might clear as soon as the shock passes."

Lorfor snorted. "Doubt it. Some of already headed off to castle to sign up for the new army."

"They feel a need to do something," the other man answered. "Just like you."

"I know what I need to do," the old man said pulling his mug towards him and taking a sip. "I need to get out of here and find Fran."

The tavern keeper perked up. "Where has that old dog got to anyway? Took off with his daughter and that blasted Imp and we haven't heard word from him since."

Lorfor shrugged. "That's what I intend to find out."

The door opened and the two of them looked up in surprise. Lorfor sat back, appraising the newcomers. Three men, dressed all in white walked in with measured steps. Hoods covered their heads and their necks were bent in a slight bow. Monks, maybe. Whoever they were, they weren't from around here.

"Ho, there," Lorfor said cheerfully. "Welcome to Lon Lon."

They sat on the stools at the bar, not giving him a response. In fact, they did not seem to make any sort of noise at all, even when they moved. Lorfor glanced at the tavern keeper who responded with a small shrug.

He stole a glance outside. Three horses stood there, two of them were pulling a small, wooden cart behind them. The cart was covered with a leather skin, but there was a significant bulge there, indicating some sort of cargo.

Lorfor looked at the men carefully and noticed that their hands were dirty. "Miners, are you?" he asked. The question was bizarre, he realised. Miners dressed as monks? He wondered what spiritual order they belonged to. He had never heard of any order of white robed monks before.

The men didn't answer. They remained fixed in position, their gazes straight ahead.

"What'll it be?" the tavern keeper said with a soft voice in order to break the uneasy silence.

This time one of them did speak, his voice quiet, but holding a tone of command. "Water."

The tavern keeper nodded, turning to get their orders.

Lorfor chewed his teeth, not sure what to make of the newcomers. Taking another swig from his mug, he tried again. "You must have some business in Lon Lon, right? Looks like you've been travelling a while, from…?"

One of them turned slowly to regard him with inky black eyes. Lorfor felt frozen, an icy paralysis running through his veins. He tried to swallow, but his throat would not respond. Again, the man did not speak and the old hunter felt his head start to pound. Then, as abruptly as it had begun, the feeling was gone. The monk turned away.

Gasping for breath, Lofor stood. "I think it's time for me to turn in for the night."

"Aye," the tavern keeper said in response, a look of concern on his face. Lorfor caught his eye and the man twitched his nose, giving the sign that he though he would be perfectly safe in the tavern by himself.

Of course he would be safe, he thought to himself as he strode out into the cool air. They were just monks after all. 

He shrugged his coat closer around his shoulders to fight off against the chill and let his eyes fall on the cart. The horses ignored him, gently scraping their hooves against the ground in boredom. He could not quite make out what was under the cover, but he did spy a small hole there.

Casting a nervous glance back towards the tavern, he shuffled forward trying to look casual. As soon as he was close enough, he squinted. There was not enough light for him to see clearly, but something flashed within. Something golden.

He walked away quickly; throwing one glance at the large fire someone had built. It was raging well and someone had placed crudely made effigies of Link, Zelda and a Freelander on top of it. 

His thoughts whirled back to what he had just seen. Ridiculous. Monks had little interest in gold; they were supposedly cut off from the base desires of the world. Lorfor shook his head. He was getting too old and events were clouding his judgement. He definitely needed to get out of here.

                                                                                                                *

Zayna waited impatiently, her fingers tapping on the side of a wooden table. She looked down, noticing that it was made with the usual Freelander attention to detail and beauty. Out of the corner of one eye, she saw Prince Chizan pacing the room, his arms folded in obvious annoyance. Tyron was sitting calmly beside the plump figure of the Wise One of the North. 

Zayna didn't like the look of the woman. There was something sly in her eyes, and her mouth curled as if she was in on some eternal joke. She was dressed in brightly coloured attire; a sharp contrast to the muted colours Freelanders usually wore. The Key wondered if the old woman was even sane. She would hum to herself happily and would snatch at things in mid air, things that Zayna could not see. Once, the Wise One had caught her staring and had winked, licking her lips. Zayna had turned her face away abruptly, the scowl clear for all.

The door opened and the Queen and the Hero bounded in. Zayna's mouth began to smirk as she noticed Zelda's flustered appearance and slightly dishevelled hair. 

The Prince caught it too and his eyes narrowed, a look that he seemed to have perfected this night.

"You're late," Chizan said.

Link trotted up to him, a spring in his step. He waited until they were eye-to-eye. The Prince did not flinch.

"She tripped," Link said, his tone filled with amusement. "I caught her."

Zelda coughed sharply, throwing the Hero a playful glare.

Zayna giggled under her breath at the interchange, but was cut off by a stare from the Wise One.

"I hope we haven't kept you waiting too long," the Queen asked looking directly at the Key with concern.

She smiled in response. "No, no," she said, glad at the look of relief on Zelda's face. It was true as well. She had been strangely calm, despite her eager impatience to hear the Wise One's words.  

"This is Adreya," Tyron said, motioning to the old woman. His tone was sombre and his eyes weary. "The Wise One of the North."

Noticing Chizan's short bow, Zayna followed suit. After a moment, Zelda and Link bowed too. In perfect synchronisation, the Key noted. 

"So," Adreya said, her voice high pitched and containing a tint of contempt. "Which one of you thinks she's the Key?" Her eyes darted between Zelda and Zayna. 

Zayna swallowed as the Queen looked towards her, an encouraging look in her eyes. 

She stepped forward. "I am."

Adreya shuffled over towards her, cackling. She lifted Zayna's chin, examining her face while her tongue rolled around the bottom of her lip. Zayna tensed, trying not to feel annoyed. Abruptly, the Wise One dropped her head and looked her in the eyes.

"You're the Key?" she asked, her voice filled with scorn.

"Yes," Zayna said through gritted teeth.

Adreya cocked her head to one side. "What makes you so certain?"

Zayna blinked. "My mother told me."

"And what made _her_ so certain?"

"She saw dreams, I suppose," she answered, frowning. 

"Enough of this!" They all turned to the sound of Link's voice. There was an unusual scowl on his face, and Zelda was looking at him, puzzled. "Zayna is the Key or else why would Cyle and Chalance Vance be seeking her? Her mother was told by the voices in her head."

Adreya fixed him with a cold stare. "She's not the only who hears voices in her head, is she?":

Link gaped. "What?"

Zelda and Zayna exchanged confused glances as Chizan frowned. 

The old woman turned away from the Hero. "Hmm," she said, her eyes narrowing. "The Counter Key is what you need."

The Hero of Time hissed. "The Counter Key is _dead."_ Each word was like a poisoned arrow.

"Oh?" Adreya said, an amused tinkle in her voice. "What makes you so certain?"

Link snarled, clenching his fists. Tyron jumped and Chizan's hand fell automatically to the hilt of his sword. Zayna chewed the inside of her cheek – why was the Hero behaving so strangely?

"Link!" the Queen cried, shock clear on her face. He wilted in front of her stern glare and composed himself with a shrug. Zelda continued to watch him, her forehead creased in a frown. 

"I saw her die," the Hero said, his voice straining to stay calm. 

The Wise One digested this without comment. 

"Please," Zayna said, disgusted at herself for her tone. "I need to know. Is there any way to remove this curse?"

There was silence as Adreya pondered her answer. Torch lights crackled, their noise amplified. Zayna saw the dancing flames reflected in the old woman's eyes. Her face was rigid and her mouth set. Zayna thought she was not going to speak again this night. 

Tyron fidgeted with his robe as they waited. Zayna saw Link stand there, his arms folded across his chest. The Hero's eyes thinned to slits as he spied the Prince silently padding over to stand beside the Queen. For all their nuances, Zayna felt a sudden surge of love for them all. They were her friends. _Her friends._

"There may be a way." Zayna jumped at the sudden sound of Adreya's shrill voice. 

"Yes?" she asked.

The Wise One licked her lips. "To the North are the Morose Mountains. They are on the border between the Freelander Emirate and the Morolak Kingdoms."

Chizan bristled. "That is many leagues from here," he said, his voice soft. "It will take time." His gaze took in all of them. "Perhaps many weeks."

"I did not claim it would be easy, Your Highness," Adreya answered a little stiffly.

"What must I do there?" Zayna asked.

"Slay the Dark Dragon there and drink his blood."

"What will that do?"

"It will give you a good complexion," the Wise One said with a wry smile. "The Dragon guards the Temple of the Dead. There you will find your answers."

"You don't have any answers for me?" she asked, feeling frustrated. She felt Zelda walk up to her and wrap her arm around her shoulders. The disappointment threatened to pull Zayna down. 

Adreya held out her hands. "This is all I have to offer you," she said, her voice softening for the first time this night. "Take it or leave it."

"We take it." It was Link's voice, ringing out strong and clear. He drew his sword and stood beside his apprentice. "Who is with us?"

"I am," Chizan answered, taking his place behind the three of them. Link and the Prince glanced at each other, something unspoken passing between them. Tyron nodded, shuffling over to stand by the Queen. She looked at him, pressing her mouth into a thin smile. He smiled back. 

"Then it is agreed," Zelda said. "We take an oath this night, all and one, to guide Zayna to the Temple of the Dead and free her from her curse. We will stand beside her until our task is done or we have fallen in the attempt."

Zayna clenched her jaw, trying to keep back the intense whirl of emotion that threatened to overwhelm her.

"Indeed," the Wise One said, her voice soft and quiet as her narrowed eyes regarded each of them. "Just remember one thing." They all turned to her, waiting for her to continue.  "Expect the unexpected."


	25. What Lies Within

Chapter 24

"So Chizan here doesn't believe that magic is a good thing."

Tyron's chuckle floated into Link's mind as he tried to stay awake. He was lying back against a rock, the lazy warmth of the setting sun stroking his face. Zelda was resting against his shoulder, breathing softly and idly pulling at the grass. Her presence was like a balm and, despite the seriousness of their trip, he felt content. It was enough to almost let him drift away into slumber again; in fact, if his soul departed right now he thought he would be the happiest man ever to have embraced death.

**Yes, you do that. But I'll stay behind if it's fine with you.**

Link let his heavy eyes drift open. They had been travelling now for two days, on horseback and on foot. Their rides were all Freelander bred, sturdy and strong, but the Hero of Time still missed his Epona. He had been relieved when Fran had told him that the horse was safe and sound back in Lon Lon Village. He had a lot to be grateful to the hunter for. Fran had done more than for Link than he deserved. The man's integrity was obvious, seeing as he'd put so much a line for a friendship that had developed over such a short time. A true hero.

Light faded, and the puffy clouds were tinted orange. They had camped for the night in this forest, the breeze playing with the leaves of the tall trees. Freelander country was a strange and beautiful place. One minute they would be traversing through the hot, dusty plain of Narik's Rock and the next they would come upon a lush, watered forest teeming with wildlife.

He looked around at his friends. Fran was sitting by a tree, Tessa curled in sleep at his feet as leaves swirled around her, making her nose twitch. The hunter, his daughter and the Imp had joined them on their trek, but only until they came to the next seaport. There, they would then head back to Hyrule, Fran needing to tend to his lagging trade. The trio had originally planned to head south on their own and find a ship there, but the Wise One had insisted that they join with Link's party. She had stubbornly persisted, claiming that it was of great importance.

**Ah. But what makes her so certain?**

Something nagged at the back of Link's mind. He did not think that there would be very many ships heading to Hyrule from any Freelander port. Judging by the tight lines on Fran's face, Link realised that his friend knew that as well.

Zayna sat cross legged on the ground, busy sharpening her sword. The rhythmic echo was the only sound reverberating in the clearing. Her expression was blank as she hid her thoughts. She was still his apprentice and he hoped that there would be plenty of opportunity to train her during their journey. His original plan had been to train a new Hero, so that he could fade into obscurity. Now, everything had changed. Zelda needed him, needed her hero. But he saw no harm in equipping Zayna with all that he knew. The world was big enough for two heroes. He only hoped that she would make it through her ordeal alive.

The Viceroy Ren had declined to join them. There had been hot words between him and the Queen, though Link had not caught the gist of the argument. All that he did know was that later, Zelda had tried to convince the Viceroy to lead an assault against Cyle's trade caravan, her plan to attack the King's economic source still fresh in her mind. Ren had refused that too, claiming that the war was over and that Zelda should reclaim her throne on her own. The Queen had glared at him furiously, but had said nothing. In the end, the Freelander King had intervened, claiming that there would be time to discuss that later as soon as they had returned from curing the Key.

Tyron was sat beside Chizan as the Prince spent most of his time giving either Link or Chitz meaningful looks. The Old Man of Hyrule Castle was looking at the Hero now, an expectant light in his eyes.

"What do you think about that, Link?"

Link straightened his back, stretching out the stiffness. He fixed his gaze on the Freelander. "I think he's absolutely right."

Tyron flinched in surprise. Zayna looked up and Zelda stirred beside him. The Prince eyed him, a disbelieving expression on his face. Only Fran was unmoved, watching the unfolding conversation impassively.

"Is that so?" Chizan asked.

The Hero smiled, trying to melt the barrier of ice that had grown between them. There was no reason for him to be enemies with this man. In fact, in different circumstances they would probably have been friends.

**Easy for you to say. You got the girl and he didn't**_. _

"Yes. Those that created and harnessed it did not do it for noble purposes. No matter how much we may try and purify it, at the end of the day it was a power used by people with dark intentions."

**Sounds like my kind of party.**

Zelda lifted herself from his side and lightly brushed off some grass from her tunic. She held him with narrowed eyes. "You've never mentioned this before."

He turned to her, an easy smile crossing his face. "I didn't _know_ about it before. I had a lot of time to read in the desert."

She watched him, not giving a response. He felt a twinge of disquiet in his heart. He wondered what other differences – philosophical or otherwise – would occur between them. It was impossible to tell, unless they spent a considerable amount of time together, eating, breathing and tasting life together. He knew that every person was unique, a never to be repeated bubble of light that graced the world for a short period of time and knew it was useless to mould another person to 'his' standards. Link still felt confident though, felt that there would only be minor differences between and they could iron those out through mutual understanding, tolerance and acceptance.

**My, my, my, aren't we getting a little ahead of ourselves? You haven't even asked for her hand yet.**

Tyron's voice broke through his musings. "Surely magic itself is neutral. Its morality depends on the user."

Link shrugged. "If we were meant to have magic, it would have been handed to us, like we get water from the sky and food from plants and animals."

Chizan's mouth tightened in a small smile. Their gazes locked. Finally they had a connection, something in common.

**Something more than wanting the same woman?**

"Hmm," said Zelda with a sigh. The tone in her voice indicated that she had had enough of that subject. "Speaking of food, what are we eating tonight?"

Fran's voice piped up. "Do not worry, Milady. Leave that to this old hunter," he stroked his bow with a smile. "I'll bag us some nice meat for the night."

Zelda turned to him with a playful frown. "In the dark?"

He winked, his smile getting wider. "Just watch me, Your Highness."

The Queen grinned as the tension eased. "I think I will," she said, her voice tinkling with amusement. "I'm going to take you to task if you don't back up your claim though. I'm ravenous."

The hunter gave a mock gasp. "Well, if worst comes to the worst, we can always eat Chitz."

The Imp, who had been scurrying around some nearby rocks, looked up at the sound of his name. All eyes turned to him and, seeing the startled look on his face, they all burst out in light laughter.

Chitz scowled. "Haha…is this your doing, Freelander?" he said, marching up to the Prince. "Did your gaze fall on me realising that no Freelander woman could be as beautiful as an Imp? Haha."

Link and Zelda exchanged glances, concerned that the easy atmosphere would melt.

Chizan merely chuckled. "I assure that is the _last _thing I think when I look at you."

The Queen stood, satisfied that all was well and motioned to the Hero with her hand. "Let's go for a walk."

"Don't go too far," Fran warned.

"We won't."

They strolled to the edge of the clearing, close enough so that they could be seen by the others, but far enough away so that their voices would not carry. Link felt the heat of Chizan's gaze on his neck, but ignored it. Small animals jolted out of their path and the soft twitter of birdsong faded away as night fell. Zelda reached up to trace her finger along the line of one branch, her face pensive, seemingly lost in her thoughts.

The Hero waited patiently.

"It's too overwhelming, Link," she said softly. "The task before us. Curing Zayna, taking Hyrule back. They want us to slay a dragon! _A dragon!" _She laughed quietly, shaking her head. "Sometimes I feel so…small. So insignificant."

It wasn't quite he was expecting her to talk about. He looked up, watched as the stars began to appear from behind their veils. "It's going to be a beautiful night."

She followed his gaze with a sad smile. "Yes, it is."

His eyes dropped to her face, and stayed there, planted. He knew from the slight twitch in her cheek that it unnerved her.

**She loves it really.**

"And it's going to be a beautiful day. And the next day after that. And after that too." The words gushed out, the passion behind them genuine. "Because you'll be there to make sure it is. Because you're the Princess of Destiny. You're _meant _to be in this situation because you're the only one who can truly handle it."

Zelda chuckled, letting her gaze drop. "Still think the world revolves around me, do you?"

"My world revolves around you."

He'd said the words without thinking, but he meant them. Her mouth opened, as if she was going to say something, but it turned into a smile instead. Emotions fought on her face, amusement and pain. It looked like she didn't know whether to laugh or cry – laugh at the silly childishness of his words, or cry at the strength of feeling behind them.

"What happens when it's time for you to leave me again, Link?"

The Hero blinked. "I'm not going to. I thought we'd established that."

Zelda sighed. "You will." She held up a hand to stop his protest. "When another threat comes calling, you'll be off. It's your nature. It's what _you_ were meant to do. You couldn't stop yourself anymore than I could give up my throne."

"I won't leave you," he said. The Hero of Time bowed his head slightly. "I am your Knight. No matter what, I am the Queen's Knight."

Tears shimmered in her eyes and he saw something relax in her face.

"I can't see the end Link," she said. "I can't see how this is all going to turn out. Zayna, Cyle, Hyrule – it just seems as though it's going to get worse before it gets any better. And even if we do succeed, what sort of world will we have left." She paused, rolling a stone under her boot. "What sort of people will we be?"

"Don't think. Just _do._"

**Do you think of these nuggets of sagely wisdom when I'm not around? **

Zelda sighed. "You don't talk to me anymore."

Link frowned, puzzled. He waited for her to continue.

"You don't tell me anything. What you're thinking, what you're feeling. At least not as much as you used to." She looked at him. "I liked when you did that."

The Hero shrugged, feeling uncomfortable. He supposed she was right. Apart from his feelings about Zelda herself, he always did talk to her about everything else.

**Hey, let _me_ speak. She'll love what I have to say.**

Her eyes widened, fear dancing in them. "Don't you trust me?"

Link straightened as if an arrow had struck him. "Of course I do!"

"Then…?"

"It's just…" The discomfort made him shift from one foot to the other. "I guess being away from people for so long has made me a little…anti-social."

Zelda looked down and gave a small nod. She stayed silent, pondering over his words.

She hesitated, before saying, "What did you mean before? About me saving you…?"

"I see something!" Link jerked his head back towards the worried tone in his apprentice's voice.

The Hero and the Queen rushed back to the clearing. Zayna was scanning the darkness in between the trees, her eyes darting this way and that. Silence fell and they all peered, searching.

"Where?" Zelda asked, her voice quiet.

Link caught a flicker of movement, something dark that was flowing like black water. A hint of red flashed. The Hero's heart caught in his chest, thinking the Demon Riders had returned and found them.

There was a hiss.

The Prince and the Hero locked gazes once more. "I hear it too," said Chizan.

They were all standing now, Zayna flipping her sword into her hand, Fran reaching for his bow. Link, Zelda and Chizan drew their weapons simultaneously.

Tessa awoke, sitting up blinking. She looked up at her father, a confused expression etched on her face. Fran looked back and put a finger to his mouth. His daughter stood, throwing a hopeful glance in Link's direction.

They were hushed, the only noise their breathing and the faint rustle of their footsteps on the leaf-strewn ground.

Link slowly looked left and right, trying to find their prey. His fingers flexed against the hilt of his sword. Who even knew they were here? Who knew where they were going?

They all whirled as a blur burst out from the undergrowth. Three Freelanders lunged at them, trying to grab at their supplies. Fran loosed an arrow, taking one down in the leg, as Chizan grabbed another one, pinning him with a glare. The other one fled into the trees.

"Mine!" Link cried, and he followed the fleeing Freelander in.

*

Lorfor did not know why he had decided to follow the monks. His wife and children would have chastised him, laughing at his foolishness. Lorfor the Adventurer? No, never. Just imagining the smiles on his faces brought warmth back into his heart. Of course, his wife and children were long gone now. All he had left was his little shop in Lon Lon. And now he'd given that up too. Maybe he was as foolish as his ghosts thought he was.

What good was his shop and his little home without the glow of friendship, without the light that brought smiles to a man's face? Fran was too long gone now and he had to find out what had happened. He had to know whether his friend still lived or if he had been left lying in a ditch somewhere, his daughter mourning him. He had to know if only for his own sanity.

Yet, he had no idea where his old hunting partner had gone. All he remembered from Fran's whirlwind visit was that he had muttered something about riding out to a port. Lorfor had caught the name too; it was the setting off point of the Royal Galleon.

Chiding himself for taking on such an obviously ridiculous quest, Lorfor had gathered all his savings and plenty of supplies before riding out. He had given his town one long, wistful look, but the haunted expressions on his fellow villagers' faces and the charred remains of the myriad fires of hate that had blazed throughout the nights had disturbed him and he felt relieved that he was leaving.

It was while he was departing that he had spied the cart and three horses of the strange monks. Seeing that they were headed in the general direction of the port, he had decided to follow them at a discreet distance. They rode at a furious pace, making Lorfor's lungs burn for air as he tried to keep up. Sometimes he wondered if they really did know of his presence and they were playing with him, seeing how persistent he would be. They even travelled through the night, catching only a few hours of sleep.

All this did though was to pique Lorfor's curiosity even further. The chase was hard going, especially for someone of his age, but they had awakened within him a sense of wonder that he had not felt since he had been a child exploring new and unique things in the world, like a multi-coloured beetle or a strange looking tree. It had refreshed his mind, given him something to aim for. Silently, he thanked the monks, though inwardly he cautioned himself, hoping that there was nothing malevolent in their intentions.

And then they were gone.

Lorfor's eyes tracked the horizon, searching for any sign of the travellers. He was still in Hyrule Field, though far away from any settlement. The port wasn't too far away and if he could not find his quarry, he would turn in that direction. Disappointment nudged him though. As much as he wanted to find Fran, he wanted to know about these monks more. Where had they come from, where were they going and, more importantly, what were they transporting?

Hyrule Field was silent and empty, the only movement the tug of the breeze on the grass. How could they have disappeared so quickly? He had been watching them carefully, leading his horse from one point of cover to another, from a boulder to a tall tree to anything that would hide his presence. He'd looked away for a brief moment, long enough for him to take a sip from his water pouch and when he returned to the hunt they had seemingly vanished. Lorfor pulled on the reins of his horse, letting it trot in a circle as he pursed his lips in frustration.

He shivered, unnerved by the event. He felt a little lonely too. Though he had not shared in their company, just the proximity of other people had comforted him, despite the fact that they were far from the most friendly of folk.

Lorfor rode on slowly, this time his eyes looking for a good place to camp for the night. The air was starting to chill and he wrapped his cloak tighter around himself. Time passed, and he reached back for a crust of hardened bread and crumbling cheese. As he chewed, he realised that there would be no shelter to be found this night. It did not bother him too much; he was in that stage of his life where sleep no longer mattered that much to him. Besides, he would be at the port by dawn if he continued riding. Hopefully, he could ask around there, see if anyone knew of Fran. It was a slim chance, he knew, but he had to try.

He saw a movement ahead of him and, his hopes rising, spurred his ride onwards. Lorfor frowned as the scene revealed itself to him. A little Kokiri girl, clad in her usual green, lay trapped under a fallen boulder. Her head towards him wordlessly, her eyes pleading. The old man sprang from his horse, finding energy that was beyond his many years. A thought reared in his head – what was a Kokiri girl doing so far away from the Lost Woods?

He ran, then slid until he was on his knees beside the child. He coughed as the dust rose from his movements. "Are you hurt?" he asked, panicked, though he knew the question was unnecessary. When he got no reply, he added, "Can you speak?"

She gazed at him; her eyes wide with a sheen of innocence that made Lorfor swallow his tears down. Her brown hair was streaked with sweat and dirt lined her face. She reminded him of one of his daughters.

He measured the boulder with his eyes and cursed himself for his lack of strength. Still, he had to try. Gritting his teeth, he pushed against it, his limbs screaming in protest. He collapsed to the ground, panting, his arms tingling. The girl had made no sound and Lorfor began to frown.

The old man shuffled towards her as something tingled at the back of his mind. A warning. She was still regarding him with that expression of wonder. Tentatively, he reached forward, trying to touch her face. There was still no reaction as his hand drew closer. Lorfor chewed his teeth, puzzled.

His fingers moved to stroke her cheek and she shimmered and faded away.

He did not have to hear them to know that they were there. He spun around, fully expecting their presence. Sure enough, the monks had surrounded him and he cursed himself for letting his guard down so easily. _Kokiris can't leave their village! _Their expressions were stony and their stares hard. Then one of them reached forward towards him.

*

Link tore through the forest, clawed branches scratching at his face, as he inhaled the grassy smell of leaves in bloom. He could see the faint figure of the scrambling Freelander ahead of him, watery moonlight illuminating his path. Straining his leg muscles, he hissed, not wanting to fail. He sucked in air with each leap as his lungs and throat felt like they had been stripped raw. He cursed as more branches struck and ancient roots threatened to trip him.

**Cut them away!**

Link swung his sword, hearing the satisfying snap of tree limbs breaking. His path clearer now, he sped forward and gained on his prey. The Hero growled, frustrated that he'd let them get so close to Zelda without him realising. If they'd touched her, he would have made them pay dearly.

**Make them pay anyway!**

There. The Freelander had stepped into another clearing. Moonlight bathed him, marking him out clearly. Fretfully, he paused, glancing back in the Hero's direction.

His mistake.

Link dived, small boulders catching at his knees and drove into the man's legs. The Freelander gave a surprised grunt and they rolled to the ground entwined. Using his own legs as a springboard, Link kipped-up twirling around to face the would-be thief. The man stepped back, snarling as he freed a curved dagger from his belt.

**Let me deal with this. I can finish it quickly.**

They circled one another, Link testing the air with warning swipes, while the thief tossed his weapon from one hand to another. Their eyes were locked, waiting for the slightest hint of an attack.

**Let me have control.**

"Before I end our little game," Link said between breaths. "Tell me who sent you and what you want."

**Let me have control.**

"Hylian scum," the Freelander spat. "Did you think the scars of our war would fade so quickly?"

Obviously, the man did not know who Link was. His anger was understandable though.

**It doesn't matter. He was going to hurt Zelda!**

The Freelander thrust his dagger, uttering incomprehensible curses. Link parried easily. He felt calm, confident that he would prevail.

Carried along by the momentum of his strike, the man's other arm came forward. The Hero saw the flash of metal. Too late.

Another dagger sprung out of the Freelander's sleeve, cutting Link with a thin slit on his chest. Anger bubbled in his heart and he jumped back.

The thief connected with a kick that cracked the Hero's wrist, letting his sword fly. Link howled in fury, letting the emotion engulf him.

**Let me –**

"- have control!" The voice didn't sound like his. It was guttural, feral even.

Link leapt. The Freelander stepped back, surprised at the ferocity of the tactic. The thief flung his daggers up in defence, but it wasn't enough. The Hero of Time grabbed both of the man's wrists in a vicious grip. The force pushed them to the ground again, and they rolled. Link sprung up and with two quick punches, disarmed the thief. A final punch put the man flat on his back.

The Hero of Time towered over his fallen foe, grinning. He lifted one foot and, after a tense pause, brought it down on the man's right wrist. A snap, a shriek. Link left him cradling his hand as he retrieved his sword.

The man whimpered, looking up at his assailant. "Have mercy," he croaked.

Link raised his sword.

*

Zelda followed the trail of destruction in search of the Hero. The broken branches and crushed grass were enough to tell her where to go. Obviously, Link was being far from subtle this night. She grinned inwardly, stroking the pale green scarf she had hung around her belt. Deciding to follow Link's lead in blatantly obvious statements, Zelda had hoped to give the scarf to her Hero this night as a gift. A memento, so that he would always remember her if he _did_ have to leave one day. It was a silly gesture she knew, and would probably be frowned upon in Hylian society, but she felt particularly daring tonight.

She sighed, letting this words tingle her heart. _The Queen's Knight._ She had to chuckle at that, but again the sincerity behind them and melted her cynicism. It was sweet and she wondered if he was capable of anything other than that. He was just being himself, she guessed, and she was grateful. She didn't want Link any other way than the way he was now. Sweet, honourable and kind. _Her_ Knight.

The Queen brought the scarf up to her face as she lost herself in her thoughts. She did not hear the sound, the rhythmic, squelching chopping.

Zelda blinked, puzzled. Something told her that she should stay out of sight. Her back to a thin tree, she peered into the clearing before her. There was a slow flicker of movement, like something going up and down. Straining her neck, her forehead creased as she strove to see more clearly.

Her eyes widened. "Link..?" she whispered.

He had not heard her; indeed the look of dreamy content on his face told her that he was blind to all going on around him. The Freelander lay at his feet, his lifeless eyes staring into the sky. The man's body jerked each time Link's blood soaked sword plunged home. Up, down, up, down, up, down.

Horror numbed her. Zelda's mouth opened and closed, words escaping her as her mind crystallised, stopping her from thinking and reflecting. She almost stumbled over something and she jerked an arm out to keep her balance. She tensed, her temples pounding, hoping, _praying_ that he had not heard the noise. She let out a small breath once she saw that he was still engrossed in his slaughter.

Spinning around, she ran back to the camp, hot tears washing over her agonised face.

The pale green scarf fluttered to the ground, forgotten.


	26. Call to Darkness

Chapter 25

Cyle studied the young man seated before him, watched as he lounged in the chair, his thin, muscular frame straining against his tunic. The man's face and eyes were hard, as if someone had beaten the kindness out of them. He had a sly expression, and his eyes darted, taking in all his surroundings while he seemingly plotted and planned. Redstar Murden was a far cry from the last representative the Morolak Kingdoms had sent.

"Please accept our condolences," Cyle said, shifting in his seat. "For the loss of the Duke and Duchess."

"Yes, yes," said Redstar, his tone dismissive. "We all mourn the tragic death of Skulljack and Toriya." There was no hint of sincerity in his voice. "Poor old Duchess and Duke. Oh, please," he sneered. "Just get on with it."

Cyle was confused at the man's sarcasm, but let it pass, putting it down to youthful folly. He licked his lips. "It pleases me, though, to see that the Morolak Kingdom is still eager for a union with Hyrule." The King shook his head, as if not believing his good fortune. "The benefits from a treaty between our two nations will be immense." He sat back, breathing deeply and theatrically as though he were preparing to embark on a momentous speech. "We are both wealthy peoples. But just _imagine _how much more we could be with a shared trade route. Poverty would be eradicated. Every man and woman would have enough to satisfy not only their own needs." He shook his head vigorously. Cyle was used to giving spiels like this. It was natural to him now, and filled him with a sweet taste of satisfaction. "No, no…they would have enough for the children, their children's children and _generations_ after that. Just _imagine." _ Cyle clenched his fist for emphasis, then relaxed, waiting for the other to speak.

Redstar eyed him carefully, as he chewed on the inside of his cheek. He was playing with a small stone, letting it spin and stop, spin and stop, spin and stop. Cyle found the action irritating. How could this man possibly be bored?

Finally, the Morolak sat up with a deep sigh. After a pause, he broke into a throaty chuckle.

Cyle twitched, feeling more annoyed.

"Benefits?" Redstar said with a whimsical voice. "Benefits, you say? What can we possibly benefit from a country that has been thoroughly whipped in war? Like a tamed and leashed Wolfo, you were brought to heel. And _this_ despite having the weight of all the other countries of the world behind it."

The King grimaced.  He still remembered having to face all the angry statesmen sent by his allies. They had demanded to know what had become of the troops they had sent, and why the war had turned out so badly. Cyle had had to be most apologetic and ingratiating, even letting himself appear cowed in front of that foppish Calatian, Boka, which had irked the King immensely. He could still hear the fool's nasal, condescending tone echo around his head. 

"A minor setback, I assure you," Cyle said in a placating voice. "Hyrule still has much to offer."

Redstar snorted. 

The King's mind raced, wondering what else he could use as a bargaining tool. 

The young Morolak licked his lips letting his eyes flicker left to right. He leaned closer, letting his voice drop. "I know you killed them."

Cyle frowned. "What? Who?"

The Morolak _tsk_-ed in exasperation. "The Duke and Duchess! I know you had them killed."

Cyle stiffened, not liking where the conversation was going. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Shush, shush, shush," Redstar said, waving the denial away. "Skulljack was a fat oaf and Toriya a shrew. I had no love for them."

The King waited. He had not expected this. 

"Listen," the young man whispered. "I can get you this treaty. But you have to do me a favour."

Cyle pursed his lips. The man was ambitious. Natural, given his age. "Name it."

"I want the whole of the Morolak Kingdom. The King and Queen – I want them out. And I want to be in charge." He paused, giving Cyle a moment to reflect. "In return you'll get our armies. Since that's what you're so obviously wanting."

His head starting to pound, Cyle frowned. He could do without getting involved in another's country's internal politics. And he most certainly did not want to waste time leading an insurrection. Still. He'd waited this long for his victory. Another diversion was nothing to him. He sighed inwardly.

"Done." The word was uttered with a dry mouth, as anxiety fluttered in his gut.

"Thank you, Your Highness," Redstar said, his mouth spreading in a humourless smile. 

"Who else knows?" Cyle asked carefully.

"Knows?"

"About the Duke and Duchess."

Redstar looked up as he pondered. "Just me I suppose. We _did _receive some sort of scroll via messenger bird. But I don't know what was in it."

Cyle froze. "Scroll? From who?"

The Morolak shrugged. "Like I said, I wasn't told. They got the message and then sent me here. All I know was that Skulljack and Toriya did not make it on their return trip and the King and Queen wanted me to find out what the terms of your treaty were."

The King's head spun. "I must know what was in that scroll."

"Calm yourself," the young man replied, his tone free from concern. "If it disturbs you so much, I'll find out for you. It can't have been too important or else I would have been informed."

Cyle drummed his fingers on the wooden table, frowning. Who would possibly send a message to Morolak? Surely Skulljack and Toriya would not have had enough time once his attack had begun. Zelda, then? Either option did not bode well for him, but like Redstar said, if it had been important then he would have been told. Still. He did not like mysteries. 

"You do that, my friend." The King said, his voice quiet and thoughtful. Instinctively, his hand went to his scar. "And then we can discuss plans on how I get a new army and how you get a Kingdom."

                                                                                                                        *

Chizan waved his sword in front of the two tied-up captives.

"I would never have believed that two of my own people – _my people_ – would be involved in something as dishonourable as thievery," he spat.

Fran was standing beside him, the expression on his face unreadable. Zayna was pacing behind the two prisoners, occasionally throwing a glance towards the forest, waiting for an appearance from either the Queen or the Hero. The farmgirl sat on a boulder to one side, watching wide-eyed as she stroked the head of the Imp. Tyron stood beside her.

One of the captives glowered up at him. "With all due respect, _Your Highness,_" the man said, his tone far from respectful. "You do not know how badly the war has affected us."

Chizan frowned, sensing deception. "Explain."

The duo glanced at each other and, when the quieter one nodded, the other spoke, "We are from a village a few leagues north of here." He cocked his head in the direction. "The influx of refugees from the south has hit our economy hard. We do not have enough bread to feed all these new mouths." He looked at the Prince with a mixture of pride and desperation. "Our children are starving. Our village is in ruins. We had no choice but to find something to trade. Find _anything _that would earn us another crust of bread so that we would not have to spend another night listening to the cries of our sons and daughters. We saw the Hylians, we figured we had a right to take from them after all that they've taken from us."

The Prince swallowed, feeling stung. He was at a loss for words and he had to lower his gaze as felt the heat of the two men's eyes upon him. He'd never been in a war, never known of its consequences. He had thought the blessing at Narik's Rock had been enough, that everything would now go back to normal. Bitterly, he realised just how wrong he was.

"Let's go visit this village." The voice was not his. 

Chizan's hand tightened on his hilt. Zayna spun, raising her sword. Fran's bow was instantly in his hands. 

The Prince looked up, seeing Zelda emerge from the trees. Relief flooded through him and he could not stop himself from smiling. The others relaxed, lowering their weapons. His eyes fell on her face and his heart chilled.

"My Queen?" he asked, frowning. He ran towards her, the prisoners forgotten. "What is the matter?"

She stepped away quickly. "Nothing," she said, but he could not help feeling concerned at the hollowness of her voice. "I just tripped. That's all."

He could tell she was hiding something, and by the looks of anxiety on his companions' faces, he knew they realised it too. Selfishly, he wondered if she was just worried about her Hero. He felt the pit of despair open in his heart once more. She would never be his. So long as she had the Hero of Time. 

"Where is Link?" he asked. She flinched as the name reached her ears. Before she could answer, the Hero appeared, a satisfied expression glossing his face. The Queen stepped away again, positioning herself beside the hunter. _Interesting_.

"What happened to the other one?" Chizan asked.

"He was armed," the Hero answered. His voice was distracted as his eyes searched for Zelda. When she did not give him a response – either with her expression or her words - he looked puzzled. "I had to slay him. There was no other option."

He heard his fellow Freelanders hiss, but they offered no words. The Prince looked at the Queen, but she was gazing off into the distance, a blank look on her features.

"Zelda..?" Chizan asked.

Her head snapped towards him. "What?"

Chizan shrugged. "You have anything to add?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Link flinch. Had he not known that she had followed him?

Zelda threw a quick glance at the Hero, before returning her gaze to Chizan. "I have nothing to say."

Link moved towards her, but she shifted again, this time planting herself behind the Prince so that he was between her and the Hero. Link frowned, his steps slowing. Chizan was startled to feel the Queen's hand gripping his arm, tight with tension. Curiosity teased him, though he could not resist feeling the quiet tingle of hope.

She stepped out to face the two captives. "How long will it take to reach your village?" Her voice was soft again. 

"Three days, maybe two if we push it," one of them answered.

"Good," she said, her gaze taking in her companions. "Get ready. We leave tonight."

Fran looked startled. "But, Your Highness…" he protested. "We need rest this night. And it will be difficult to travel in the dark."

She walked over to her horse, her back straight, and untied it from a nearby tree. "I will not sleep this night," she said, her voice cold. "And if you can hunt in the dark then you can lead us without light too."

"As you wish, Your Highness," the hunter replied softly, a defeated look etched on his face.

The Queen looked back at the two Freelanders. "We will see what the situation is at their village. We will see what we can do to help." She fixed Link with a stare. Chizan noticed something burning in her eyes. He looked to the Key, who only responded with a slight shrug, confusion creasing her own features. "And Link will find the family of the Freelander he just … killed. Then, apologise to them."

Link recoiled as if he had taken an arrow to the gut. "What? Why?"

She ignored him, keeping her gaze on the prisoners. "Will they demand blood money?"

One of them shrugged. "Maybe."

Zelda patted one of her saddlebags, making it jingle. "Then I will pay it."

Chizan had no idea what was going on, but he sensed that the Queen was in pain. He may have lost her to the Hero, but he was not going to stand by and let her suffer. He strode towards her, hoping that she would let him ride beside her so that he would have a chance to talk. 

There was a movement from the corner of his eye, and he skidded to a halt as Link blocked his path. The Prince tensed. He hoped, he _prayed_ that the cause of Zelda's discomfort was the Hero of Time himself. Finally, he would be able to rid himself of his rival. He sighed, trying to battle the unheroic thoughts pounding in his head, but he could not help it. He _loved_ the Queen and he was certain that only he could make her happy. If Link had hurt her, then no number of Heroic Deeds was going to stop Chizan from making the Hero suffer.

They glared at one another in silence, as the others watched carefully. The Prince clenched and unclenched his fists, letting out the tension. He could see the lines on Link's face tighten as they dared him to take another step.

"Oh, stop it, both of you." Zelda was glaring at them with such ferocity that the Prince had to drop his eyes, feeling like a scolded child. He saw the stricken and confused look on Link's features and felt a sickening sense of satisfaction. Selfish and unheroic, a voice within him taunted. 

"I am the Queen of Hyrule," she continued. "And I do not need _either_ of you."

They both relaxed, letting out deep breaths. Yet, they still watched each other with wary eyes.

Zelda looked towards the other two women. "Zayna, Tessa," she called. "Ride with me. Leave the little children to play their games."

                                                                                                                      *

"Link!"

The Hero stirred, moaning. Surely, it could not be morning already? They had finally taken a rest the night after capturing the Freelanders. He'd spent the entire day trying to find a moment to speak to Zelda, but she had made excuses or had avoided him point blank, preferring to spend her time with Tessa or Zayna. The looks the Queen gave him both puzzled and frightened him. They were daggers in his heart and the fact that she was so cold was just the twist of the hilt. What had he said to anger her so? He tried to think back, recalling their last conversation. Was it because she thought he no longer trusted her?

"Link, wake up!"

The voice was whispering. It was light and feminine too. Had Zelda decided to wake him for a late night heart to heart? Hope swirled within him.

"How can our fate depend on so lazy a person?" 

Link awoke, chuckling. He blinked, gazing up to see Tessa's eyes looking down at him. He tried to keep the disappointment from his face.

"What's so funny?" she asked.

"Nothing, nothing," he said, sitting up. "It's just that an old friend once said something similar." 

She frowned.

"A long time ago," he added hastily. 

Her face melted in relief as he stretched and yawned. The air smelt burnt as the charred remains of their cook-fire lay coldly at the centre of their camp. Chewed bones lay atop dead wood, the last vestiges of the meal that Fran had caught for them. They were sleeping around the fire, their soft snores carrying in the mild wind. He saw their two captives laying near Chizan, their bounds removed at Zelda's request. The Queen herself had positioned herself at the furthest side of the camp – leaving a wide space between her and Link. He felt slighted by this, but wasn't sure why. He looked towards her longingly, but her face was covered by a woollen blanket. She was not at peace though, her body jerking this way and that. He wondered if she was really awake. 

"Tessa," he whispered, turning his attention back to the farmgirl. What had possessed her to awaken him? "What's the matter? Did you hear something?"

She sat back with a smile, hugging her legs. "Oh, nothing's the matter, Link," she said, her usual supply of cheerfulness not yet exhausted. "It's just that we never get the chance to talk, you and I. And I thought it would be nice." She paused as if confused. "You know. If we talked."

"Now?" he said, blinking the gummy feeling out of his eyes. He glanced at his bedroll wistfully, feeling the heat depart from it as the breeze took hold.

"Yes, now," she replied, throwing a quick look over at the Queen. "This is the only time you're free."

Their voices were hushed and sharp. They sounded like they were planning something secret. Link sighed, only wanting to discuss one thing. "Have you talked to Zelda? She seems upset about something."

"Oh," Tessa answered, disappointed that the subject had changed so abruptly. "Well, we've talked, but not about what's on her mind. She just asked about life in Lon Lon or asked Zayna about her childhood in the castle." She paused, frowning. "There _is _something troubling her, but I get the impression she doesn't want to discuss it." Another pause as she thought back. "I asked Zayna."

"And?"

"She said that if Zelda wants to tell us, she will." Her eyes dropped as she recalled the conversation. "And that there's no point in us forcing her."

"I see," Link said, sighing again.

As if sensing his gloom, she smiled and opened her hand. "Link, look."

He peered down and felt a twinge as he saw the jewel that he originally intended to give to Zelda staring back at him.

"I showed it to Papa," she said with a giggle. 

"What did he say?" he answered, grinning. Her laugh and demeanour were infectious.

"He said," she paused to clear her throat, then continued in a gruff imitation of Fran's voice. " 'That's very nice, dear, but don't you get any funny ideas just because he gave you a shiny rock'."

Link laughed and Tessa giggled. They threw surreptitious glances at the others, scared that they might have been too loud. Fran stirred a little and they froze. After a moment of tense silence they relaxed, letting out held breaths, the coast clear.

The Hero looked up at her. She was still smiling and the amused glitter in her eyes was inviting. For one heartbreaking moment she reminded him of Malon.

_Go for it, Hero boy._

Link almost jumped. He hadn't heard the voice since the night he had…_fought_…the Freelander thief. He felt a cold sweat erupt on his forehead. He had hoped that it had left him, that it had been satiated by what had happened.

_Looks like Zelda's gone cold on you. Women, that's the way they are. But there are always others. Like this one._

He had to keep himself from hissing in disgust.

Tessa frowned, concern spoiling her pretty features. "Link, what's the matter?"

"Ah, nothing," he said, straining to let the words free. "I think it may have been something I ate."

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

_Look at that. Ready and willing. You'd be a fool to refuse._

Grief engulfed him. The voice was getting worse. At the beginning it was nothing more than playful suggestions, as they both hatched the plan to deceive Cyle and Chalance Vance. Link had played along, feeling in complete control, knowing that at the end of the day he alone would bring the King down at Narik's Rock. The voice had done nothing more than be an encouragement, wiping away his doubts as he had executed his scheme. Sometimes he had let the voice have control, so that they could show the King and His Advisor a façade of malevolence that Link knew he could not manage on his own. But now the voice was mutating, becoming more independent, becoming less and less like him. 

_Or are you becoming more and more like me?_

"Link?" she reached forward, wanting to stoke his head. 

He pulled away, the pain in his heart overwhelming. "No, it's nothing. Thank you for asking."

She chewed on her lower lip. "Should I get Papa?"

"No, no!" he said. "I think I just need some sleep."

"You look feverish," she said, looking towards her father longingly.

_Let's see how long you can last, Hero boy. How long can you fight me for? At the end of the day, there will only be one of us left in this body._

Link sank into his bedroll, the world whirling around him. "It's nothing. Just need to sleep. I'm sorry. We'll talk another time."

She flashed him another optimistic smile. "S'okay," she said as she stood to leave. "I'm sure we'll have another chance."

The Hero of Time let himself be drowned by sleep as he heard the voice's chilling laugh follow him down. 

                                                                                                                             *

"Master." The voice was emotionless, empty. "We have found it."

Chalance Vance was trembling, tears almost in his eyes as he took the gift from the Guard's hands. He looked up at the entranced Hylian. There was no expression on the man's face. He was one of many that the sorcerer had bewitched, sending them out all over the known world to find his treasure. They had travelled far and had butchered many, so much so, that Vance had had to wipe the memories of the dead from their living relatives. And now, after many months and fruitless quests, they had found it.

He had known beforehand, of course, from the mental link he shared with his servants. And yet the sight of it now melted him, made his knees quiver like some pathetic maiden in the presence of a dashing and gallant knight.

"You have done well," the Advisor said, his voice hushed with awe. He knew the words were meaningless to this man, but the joy that had sprung in his soul had melted all misgivings. "You may go."

Chalance Vance slowly closed the door to his chambers and sat in a soft, luxuriously crafted chair. There were no torches here, the only illumination the fire of the hearth. He glanced up at its sputtering flames, letting the heat drench his face with sweat. He looked down at the gnarled, wooden stick that he cradled lovingly in his hands. 

The Staff of Insight.

Malicious glee bubbled within him and he started giggling like a child. When they had sent him to Hyrule, they had told him that the Staff had been destroyed, but he had known it to be a lie. The Staff could never be destroyed. He knew that they could not let it stay with them where he could link with it. So, they must have let it fall into the hands of one of the denizens of this world. He did not care who or how, all that mattered was that he had it in his possession once more. With it, his power was increased a hundredfold. And, of course, it had another function as well.

At the tip of the staff, enclosed in the grip of a thrice-taloned golden claw was a shimmering blue orb. He stroked it now, tears flowing freely. 

It was time. 

He stood, his body trembling, swallowing to keep his mouth from drying. He looked around his chambers as if expecting some sort of momentous sign to occur to mark the occasion. 

Words he had not uttered in many summers flowed from his lips, tasting like honey, as sweet as cold water is to a parched man. 

The orb crackled, sparks of blue energy humming around it. His vision blurred, but he kept his eyes on the glowing globe.

"Staff of Insight," he whispered. "Show me what is to come. Show me the fate of those that would seek to disrupt my plans."

A whirlpool of blue light erupted from the orb. Time and space contracted, everything spun, moved forwards, moved backwards. Chalance Vance felt old, felt young, felt like he was a thick, viscous liquid being squeezed through a tiny gap, he felt he was floating, like his entire being had expanded. Reality was stripped from his vision, like decoration paper being torn from a wall.

A face appeared. A man, old and squat. He had an evil twinkle in his eye.

"Who are you?" Vance asked.

"I am Agahnim and I have failed." The voice echoed around him and through him, reverberating in his bones. "The Hero has broken me. Link has defeated me. My master will…"

Vance's eyes widened in shock. "Impossible! This is the future! He cannot have lived that long!"

The face melted and split. Another replaced it, in a different time and place. A woman, with long brown hair.

"I am Marin. I found him washed up on the coast. That's how I met Link..."

The sorcerer shook his head, disbelieving his eyes and ears. Something must have gone wrong. It couldn't be like this. The Staff had never failed him before.

Time shifted. The face was gone, replaced with another female, her hair and eyes fiery. Vance grit his teeth, dreading the words that would come.

"I am Din, the Dancer. I feel alive only when I dance with my friends. But, look! I see him approaching. It is Link, he seeks the Oracle of Seasons…"

Time stretched and sped by him. He felt his body elongate. 

Another face. A little girl, dirt spoiling her blonde hair, an expression of misery etched on her face.

"I am Arill." Her voice was tiny, loaded with pain. "I know not why they have taken me. But I know my brother will find me. Link will rescue me..."

Vance hissed as the final face floated into view. It was so familiar, but it was also different. Softer in some places, harsher in others.

"I am Zelda Harkinian. My destiny has been placed before me thanks only to the Wind Waker himself. Yet, before this, I was nothing more than…"

Chalance Vance let the Staff clatter to the ground as he sank into his chair, head in his hands. He was shaking again, but no longer from excitement. How was this possible? Were Link and Zelda meant to live forever? Did this mean that _they_ and not him would become Joined and they would alter reality to become immortal?

His head swam and he felt nauseous. He knew that the Staff only told him what it chose to tell him. He knew he could not manipulate it to tell him exactly how those events he had seen would come to pass. But he also knew that the Staff was more than a window into Time, it was a window into other places.

Vance snatched the Staff up and gazed into the orb. He composed himself, driving the visions into the bottom of his soul.

"Sacred Realm," he growled. 

A mist swallowed the orb and Vance tensed waiting for the encounter. He had prepared himself for this moment for many, many summers. The mist parted and a hideous face appeared, its greying skin cracked and withered, its green eyes nothing more than lazy slits. 

The face looked up, startled. "You!"

"Yes, me," Vance answered.

"This cannot be! We banished you. Hundreds of sorcerers died unleashing the energy required to tear you from the Sacred Realm."

"I have returned." The words were said simply and calmly. Vance wanted to savour this moment, taste the heady smugness he felt. The look of shock on his nemesis' face was enough to warm his icy heart. "And I have recovered my staff as well, no matter how hard you tried to hide it."

"What do you want?"

"I am here to give you a warning. I am coming. You can prepare all you like but it will do you little good. _I_ was the true ruler of the Sacred Realm. Only _I _managed to unite it and give it strength until we were on the cusp of breaking free and taking this pathetic terrestrial plane for ourselves." He paused, letting the words sink in as the creature eyed him carefully. "What once was mine will be mine again. I am returning to take my rightful place as the rightful sovereign of the Sacred Realm." His next words were nothing more than slow, harsh, bitter whispers. "And _this _time, I _will_ be _Joined!_"

He broke the link before the creature could respond and sat back down, feeling a modicum of satisfaction.

Cyle would not be the one who would partake in the Joining, oh no. It would be Chalance Vance; it was his birthright, his destiny. And once he had the power to alter reality, he would cast his gaze through Time itself and hunt down all of Link and Zelda's manifestations.

And then he would eliminate them one by one.


	27. Openings

Chapter 26

"This is simply…astounding."

Lorfor gaped, a little ashamed of himself, but in all his many summers he had seen nothing like it. He stood on a grassy plain, underneath a jagged, rocky sky. He could see a cascade of waterfalls in the distance, although they were like no other he had ever seen before. They entwined with one another, like a ribbon or the braids of a little girl's hair, and the water shimmered as if pure, liquid crystals were floating down the cliff face. They pooled at the bottom in a frothy foam that sparkled so intensely that he had to look away many times. 

Ancient, curving trees grew up and around each other, though he did not know how since the sun did not reach into this underground cavern. Perched atop the branches, flattening the leaves, were crudely made wooden houses, cooking smoke drifting from tiny holes in the roof. Some children danced and played around him. Others sat; solemn expressions on their faces as they spoke in hushed, measured tones. These latter ones unsettled Lorfor somewhat, so unused he was to seeing the light of wisdom in childlike eyes. 

Tiny diamonds of light zipped through the air, glittering snowflakes of radiance trailing them. _Faeries._ Some of the trails fell on him and he found them to be soft, like dew. The serene beauty of it all left him dazed.

He looked towards his guide, the only adult he had met here bar the monks. She was a young woman, dressed in white, though she kept her head hooded which prevented him from seeing her face clearly.

"I thought the Kokiri could never leave their domain," he asked, his voice still not recovering from the awe.

"It wasn't safe for them anymore," she said. There was something familiar about her voice, but Lorfor could not quite place it. "We took them below, the Lost Woods is directly above us. In reality, they haven't really gone anywhere except down."

"We?" he asked.

She did not reply. She started walking and Lorfor was compelled to follow. 

"The entrance to this place is secret. My…Helpers…took the long way around to get here. They said you were following them...?"

Lorfor swallowed, feeling embarrassed. "I was curious."

"You're from Lon Lon, right?" she asked, though the old man thought he could detect a heaviness in her voice.

"Yes," he said simply.

"How are things there?"

He watched her walk through the meadow, her hand trailing over golden flowers that seemed to respond to her touch as he pondered on his reply. Once or twice one of the Kokiri would run up to her, giving him a wary glance before they tugged on her dress. She would bend down, letting them whisper in her ear before replying quietly, the smile evident in her voice if not her face.

"The people are…distressed. Hyrule has suffered a defeat at the hands of a foreign power. The Hero of Time and the Queen are being blamed."

She stopped short at the mention of the names. There was a pause, and Lorfor waited, feeling even more uncomfortable.

"Lon Lon…" she said, her voice thoughtful. "That was not always a town, was it?"

Lorfor blinked, not expecting the question.

"Erm…no," he answered, feeling a bit frustrated with himself. Why should he feel so cowed in front of this woman? She was nothing but a slip of a girl to him. "It was built around Lon Lon Ranch, where old Talon used to keep fine horses."

There was another pause as she turned her face away. The sound of running water was lulling him, making his heavy eyelids relax.

"What became of him?"

"Him?" he said sleepily.

"Talon," she said, no hint of impatience in her voice.

"Oh. Well, the expansion made him quite rich. He's living well nowadays, though he keeps himself to himself. Still hurting from the daughter he lost summers ago."

"I see," she said, keeping her tone neutral. Lorfor did not think she was very interested in what he had to say. "Are there any other notables in your town?"

"Notables. I don't mix with them," he said. Thinking of his home made his heart ache. He sighed inwardly. "Just had a few friends. Maken and Fran."

"Ah," she said, a sparkle in her voice. "Fran Marcaster."

Lorfor froze in shock. Hope bubbled within him. "You know him? Is he well?" He had to keep himself from grabbing her and shaking the information out. 

"He's fine," she said. There was that smile in her voice again. "Don't worry." 

"How do you know this? Where is he?"

Before she could reply, a bauble of light darted in front of her face, making her jerk her head back.

"Hey!" it said with a childlike squeak. "Listen!"

"What is it, Navi?" she asked patiently.

"Saria wants to see our guest," the faerie said, pulling on the woman's sleeve insistently. "Like now!"

The woman gave a light laugh, brushing the little creature off gently. "Tell her we'll be there soon."

A sudden thought occurred to Lorfor. "Why weren't the Kokiri safe in their homes anymore?"

She turned to him. "They…we are preparing for something. There are those who would use brutal means to stop us." She paused and gazed into the distance. "The endgame is about to begin."

Not making any sense of her words, Lorfor rested his hand on a nearby tree, feeling the wrinkled, thin bark under his fingers.

There was a deep chuckle.

Lorfor looked left and right, but no one else seemed to have noticed. The woman was still staring away, while the Kokiri bounced around him happily, not paying attention to him at all.

There was a cough. 

Lorfor looked at the tree.

The woman turned her attention back to him.

"Erm," he said, feeling awkward. "The tree seems to be ticklish."

She gave another light laugh. "You're leaning on the Great Deku Sapling."

Lorfor's eyes widened. "You mean…it's alive?"

She nodded. He thought he could see an amused twinkle under her hood.

The old hunter snapped his hand back as if he had been burnt and the woman threw back her head and laughed. He thought he caught sight of a lock of silver hair. 

"I greet you, Lorfor the Old," the tree rumbled.

"I…ah…am pleased to meet you too." He had not had practice in conversing with trees before. 

"Later," the woman said, with a nod to the tree. "Saria awaits."

There was a creaking noise, like a branch bent to breaking point. A rustle of leaves followed, and Lorfor realised that the tree was giving a short bow.

They walked on, Lorfor feeling lost and stunned. He had had far too much to take in ever since the monks had blindfolded him and brought him here. He had been paralysed with fear, wondering if they meant him harm. They had not answered any of his questions; indeed they had not spoken to him at all. Or even to each other. When they finally arrived at the cavern, Lorfor had been trembling, fearing the worst. His mind had drifted back to his family and to his friend, Fran, certain that he would never see him again. Instead, he had been greeted by this strange woman, who had taken him in, speaking kind and soothing words.

One of the Kokiri males glared at him from a vantage point, perched high in a tree.

"I don't think that one likes me," Lorfor said, pointing.

She looked up. "Oh, that's just Mido. He doesn't like anyone. Don't worry about it." She had the kind of voice that he wanted to believe. It alleviated his doubts and soothed his heart.

He paused as she stopped to scoop some water from the river. Lorfor noticed that its texture glowed and shimmered. She swallowed, her neck muscles contracting and expanding fluidly. A baby cucco scampered past and she giggled, clucking at it and stroking its head. With a sigh of satisfaction, she rose and led him into a cave near the waterfalls. It was damp in there, with water dropping from the ceiling creating small pools in the grooves in the ground.

It was dark, save for a pale light shining at the centre. Lorfor caught sight of a long, oblong container, about the size of a man and plated with gold. 

"Is this what your Helpers were carrying?"

"It is," she said, walking around it. She stroked it slowly, the action probably heavy with meaning, though Lorfor could not decipher it.

"What is it?"

She hesitated before answering. "It is a coffin."

Lorfor waited for her to continue, but she did not elaborate. Not sure if he was treading on ground that might offend her, he paused, but curiosity won out.

"Who lay within?"

She did not answer. Slowly, with two sharp snaps, she unlatched the lid. 

Lorfor peered forward as she opened the coffin.

                                                                                                              *

Zelda's throat tightened as she led her horse into the village courtyard. She felt no comfort from the presence of her companions; instead a frost had grown over her heart. The Freelanders were waiting, silent and staring. How they had known she and her friends were coming she could not tell. Perhaps they had been waiting for the trio that had attacked them. The Freelanders gave Chizan a respectful distance, but they still fixed the group with stony gazes. Zelda could not tell what emotions were raging behind those looks; so impassive were their features. She was glad that Chitz was hiding within Tessa's travel pack or else the atmosphere may have been even tenser.

Her grip tightened on the satchel hanging by her shoulder. She had been designated to carry their food for a while, and the bag was full of dried bread and cold meat, wrapped in leaves. She heard the slow sloshing of the water pouches within.

The Queen's gaze fell on the people and she saw that their captives had not been exaggerating. There were far too many people here. Men, women, children; they lined the dusty pathways, spilling into the weather beaten road. Yet, no misery showed on their faces. She saw bedrolls, tattered and dirty, bundled away on doorsteps and knew that many of them had found no refuge in this little town. 

And it was all because of Cyle.

Not for the first time, she wondered exactly what he wanted out of the Joining. Having Hyrule in his grip should have satiated him. What scheme was lurking behind that double-edged smile of his that required him to have the power to warp reality?

They stopped in the centre of the courtyard as silence swallowed them. All eyes were upon them and she had to clench down on her desire to flee. Her feet hurt, having decided to walk the final stretch to the village. She saw little Freelander children standing straight and proud, while their tear streaked faces betrayed the hunger they felt within. Zelda closed her eyes, trying to push her grief down. She did not know what to say and it was clear from Chizan's face that he was at a loss for words too.

She flinched, her mouth curling into an instinctive snarl as she saw Link stride towards her. What was he thinking? Now was no time to have a confrontation. She felt the sting of tears and the choke of sorrow as he neared. Confusion dizzied her, no longer knowing what to think about the Hero. Disbelief fought with fear. How well had she really known him? How could she have known what he was like? She tasted the bitter ash of betrayal in her soul. First Cyle, and now Link. Was there no one with a genuine heart? No one she could truly trust with her life?

And yet…_and yet_…it just did not seem possible. Had she dreamt it? She knew it been haunting her for the past few nights. She no longer knew what to say to him, though she knew she could not put it off for long. But did he really want to clear the air _now?_

He was beside her and she shrank back. His hand came up and she jerked, feeling fearful. He paused in mid-air, giving her a puzzled, but meaningful look, before he plucked one of the sticks of bread out from her satchel.

She watched, confused, as he walked up to the Freelanders, tearing off a handful of bread. He stopped, looking around at the people. They did not respond.

Kneeling down, he pushed the bread into a small child's hands. The child looked up at her parent and, when she saw that her father had no expression of disapproval, took the bread gratefully and wolfed it down.

Other children started moving towards the Hero now, their steps tentative, but soon gaining confidence. Link started tearing off more strips of bread and soon he was engulfed by a sea of little children, their hands reaching up to him expectantly, their squeals full of joy. They were pushing him playfully now and he was grinning as he handed out more food. The adults looked on, still showing no emotion.

Zelda was stunned. It was as if she had seen him do something noble for the very first time. Memories flooded back to her of all the times he had rescued her or Hyrule or had helped out a complete stranger out of the mercy that personified his heart. Her own heart melted. She wanted to cry, but blinked back the tears.

And then it came to her again. The image of Link, grinning with glee as his sword went up and down, the moon looking down on the blood. She closed her eyes again, and once more confusion rocked her until she felt slightly sick. Nothing made sense. Was he like Cyle, all show with no inner core? Or was there something else happening – something she was not aware of?

A stray memory floated into her mind. Shortly after he had left for the castle to seek out Zayna, she had had a dream about him where she had felt him split in two. She frowned at it now, but she knew better than to ignore the messages her visions told her. But what _was_ the meaning?

She looked up as Link approached her again. She stood her ground, no longer feeling scared, as she tried to search his face for some clue. His mind was elsewhere though, obviously happy at the enthusiasm shown by the little ones. He walked past her and stopped by her horse. The Hero threw a glance to her saddlebag of rupees, before giving her a questioning look. Understanding, she gave a small nod in response.

He untied the bag and scooped out a handful of currency. Walking back to the Freelanders her spilled the green and red jewels onto the ground, a waterfall of colour. 

No one stepped forward to claim them.

"We do not need your charity," one of the women said, though there was no hostility in her voice. Pride radiated from her eyes, but her voice had been matter-of-fact.

Link opened his mouth to speak, but the Prince laid a hand on his arm, stilling him.

"Who is in charge here?" Chizan called, his voice once again its usual calm and serene self.

An elderly man stepped forward, silvery-grey hair hanging down to his neck. "I am," he said in a gruff voice.

"We would speak with you, if you would honour us with your time," the Prince said.

He regarded them for a moment, then nodded, motioning with a wave. "Come."

The elder turned and Zelda's group gathered themselves, eager to be away from accusing eyes. Those behind the Freelander did not budge. A tense moment passed and the Queen's grip on her satchel tightened once more until she could feel it cut into her fingers. For an instant, she thought she would witness a mutiny.

"They are my guests," the elder said. He locked gazes with the others and something unspoken passed between them. After another moment, Zelda saw the lines around the other men's eyes relax and they broke rank, giving them a free passage.

They walked to the elder's hut, heads hung low, not wanting to meet anyone else's gaze. Their feet dragged, churning up dust. The elder unbolted the door with two sharp tugs. Afternoon light went in ahead of them, warm and fiery orange. Zelda noticed that their two captives had joined them too. 

The elder's wife watched them, typically serene. She motioned them towards a plain, wooden table and they sat, their shifting weights making the chairs creak. The Queen was struck at how…ordinary everything looked. She had gotten so used to the fine arts and crafts in the palace at Narik's Rock that she assumed that all Freelanders lived the same way. She looked around the house, deciding that 'modest' was too much of an exaggeration to describe it. It was plain, everything built out of wood and having a specific function, the table, the chairs, and the clock with its rhythmic swinging pendulum. Yet, everything was organised and in its proper place and Zelda sensed the love that hung in the air here. She saw it too, in the unspoken looks and gestures between husband and wife. With an ache, she wondered if she would ever feel so connected to another person like that.

The elder cleared his throat. "I, Syler of Three Heroic Deeds, greet you, Prince Chizan."

The Prince nodded in response.

"And," the man continued. "I greet you Zelda, Queen of Hyrule and Link, Hero of Time. And your companions as well."

"I am grateful," she answered, while the others murmured their replies. 

Syler's expression hardened. "Your presence here, Your Highness," he said, nodding to the Prince. "Is both welcome and unwelcome."

The wife pottered around the table, dropping bowls of something hot and steaming in front of them. Zelda saw something floating in the liquid within and decided that it was better she did not think about it. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Link lean slowly forward, a panicked expression on his face and she had to bite down to stop from laughing.

"Understood," Chizan answered, taking a spoonful without flinching. Zelda's heart reflected the sadness she heard in the Prince's voice. "I wish the war had never come to you."

"There is no wisdom on worrying on what might have been," Syler said. "Only what is."

"Is there anything we can do help?" Zelda asked, daring to take a sip of her soup. It was spicy and meaty. Not as bad as she had first feared.

The elder's eyes flicked to the window and Zelda turned to follow his gaze. The Freelander children were outside, running around with grins she knew were long overdue on their faces.

"I think the Hero has done enough to help," Syler answered. "Hope is a precious gift."

Zelda sighed, feeling the pride surge within. She looked over at Link wondering at his reaction. The Hero's eyes were flicking back and forth; looking at his soup with disdain and then glancing over at the bread he had given away longingly. Finally, he shook his head and rested it in one hand. He flinched as Fran kicked him under the table. The Queen had to put her hand to her mouth to hide her giggle.

But then her mirth froze as the image returned. The blood soaked sword; up and down, up and down.

"Where are you heading?" Syler asked, his wife coming to stand behind him, her hands resting on his shoulders.

The Prince glanced over at Zelda and she nodded, giving him the permission he sought.

Chizan stirred the soup slowly with his wooden spoon. "We seek the Temple of the Dead in the Morose Mountains. We are still many leagues away."

Syler frowned. Zelda saw something light up in his eyes.

"You have a suggestion?" she said.

He shifted in his chair, looking uncomfortable. "There is an easier way…"

"Oh?" the Prince queried, glancing at Zelda. She tried to stop the hope rising, sick of feeling disappointed all the time. 

"Yes. Not far from here are the old gold mines. They're not in use anymore, our supply of gold being exhausted. There's a tunnel there that leads straight to the Morose Mountains."

"Are you certain of this?" Zelda asked. Excitement stirred her heart.

"Well, it's an old wives' tale," he said, before flashing a sly look to his wife. "Depends how much you trust old wives."

She gave him a playful scowl in return and Zelda smiled at the exchange. 

"It's worth a try," Chizan said, his tone thoughtful.

"Agreed," Zelda answered, looking around at her friends who all nodded in response. 

"Forgive my impertinence," Syle asked with a little cough. "But why do you wish to visit the Temple of the Dead?"

"We're going dragon slaying." It was Zayna who had answered.

The elder raised an eyebrow in Chizan's direction, but he only responded with a sheepish shrug.

They left after a little while. Zelda tightened her saddlebags as Fran fed the horses. The Freelanders no longer stared at them, walking around concerned with their own business. Cooking fires were lighted and she breathed in the warm aroma, letting it tickle her imagination. She looked up, and saw the faint glimmer of stars start to appear. Cool air pinched her cheeks. They would have to leave soon. There was certainly not enough space for them to stay in the village. Still. She felt happy, glad that they had a direction, a short cut to their goal.

A hand gripped her arm and she whirled around to look into Link's face. His eyes were wide and the fading light made his earnest expression look even softer. She wanted to cry. 

"Something's wrong," he said. His voice was a conflict, confused one moment, pleading the next. "And I want you to tell me what it is."

She blinked, not sure what she should say. 

Over his shoulder, she saw one of their former captives approach. She motioned to Link with her eyes and he turned, looking puzzled.

"Hero of Time," the Freelander said, his voice grim. "Someone wishes to see you."

                                                                                                                      *

Link stood in the small hut, torchlights only throwing a little illumination. Chizan and Zelda stood either side of him as he faced the Freelander family. There was an elderly man and two young women. One of the women cradled a baby in her arms, cooing at her child in-between glaring at Link. The other two remained expressionless. He was tense, not wanting to be here at all.

"Explain it to us again, Hero," the elderly one said. His voice was thick with emotion. "My daughter and my daughter-in-law trust your word."

The daughter-in-law – the one holding the baby – let her burning gaze linger on Link's face. "Yes, we hear your word is as sharp as your sword."

Link took the hint.

The Hero sighed inwardly. He was here now and had to try his best. He tried to soften his features, hoping that his eyes reflected gentleness. He directed his words to the daughter-in-law, knowing that she would require the most convincing.

"Your husband," he said, keeping his voice level. "Attacked our camp. I chased him down and I found him armed. I could not take that sort of a risk with my friends and so we fought." He paused, trying not to flinch from her stare. "I won."

**And we loved every single moment of it.**

"Is it a capital offence, then oh 'Hero' of Time, to wish to feed your family by any means necessary?" she spat. "Look at us! I am busy with my child, my sister-in-law is too young and my father-in-law too old. Only my husband could provide for us and he was desperate."

Link looked around. Zelda was wearing an uncomfortable expression, while the Prince stood with his usual aloofness, though the muscles in his neck were tensing. A torch hung on the left hand wall, warming that side of Link's face, while his right side was cool, almost icy. And yet he felt uncomfortably hot. 

"I can only apologise for you loss," the Hero said, though the words sounded hollow even to him.

The elderly one opened his mouth to speak, but his daughter-in-law cut him off.

"You did not slay either of his companions," she said, the accusation hanging in the air.

"My friends dealt with them easily. Your husband was a little…trickier."

"Oh?" she said, stroking the baby's hair. The elderly one frowned at her, a warning in his eyes. She ignored him. "How is it that the high and mighty Hero could not do what his friends were able to do so easily?"

Link swallowed, though her words were starting to grate, like little hooks under his skin. No, not her words, her tone. 

**Well, what right does she have to question the Hero of Time?**

He felt the anger simmer within, threatening to boil over.

"I…have no explanation to offer," he said. "In the heat of battle, things are not always clear."

The father-in-law stepped forward before the woman could reply.

"We accept your apology, Hero of Time," he said, his voice grave. His eyes were milky, filled with sadness. Reflected torch light flickered within them, giving them a ghostly appearance. "Though it pains us. You're honour and your Heroic Deeds are well known to us."

The woman snarled, startling her child. "Well, _I_ do _not," _she said as she tried to calm the baby. "You have wronged me, Hero of Time."

Why doesn't the stupid wench just drop it? Who cares about her worthless husband?

Link felt the fury trickle through his veins. His heart trembled as he tried to keep his mouth from scowling.

"We will offer you blood money." Zelda said from beside him, hope catching in her voice.

The woman kept her eyes on Link. "Keep it. It does not replace what _he_ took from me."

Link was grinding his teeth now. His temples throbbed.

**Let me have control. If she misses her husband so much, I can send her straight to him.**

"I curse you," she hissed. Her father-in-law tried to put a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off.

The Hero's fingers moved to the hilt of his sword. Instinctively, his fingers stroked it as his mind reminded him of the thrill of the kill, the smell of blood, the taste of victory.

**Let me have control.**

Link gripped his sword. The baby started to wail.

**Let me have control. I'll shut the child up too.**

The Hero of Time blinked, a cold sweat coating him. He stepped backwards, his vision spinning. Zelda glanced at him, concern spreading on her face.

He steeled himself. He knew what he had to do. The only thing he could do.

Then drew his sword.

**That's my boy!**

Chizan stiffened and Zelda's eyes widened. The woman took a step back while her father in law stood, his mouth hanging open. She looked at him, an imploring glint in her eyes.

Link breathed deeply, letting the calmness flow. It was time to for him to take control. It was time to show them who the Hero really was.

He flipped the sword around, so that he was holding it by its point.

**What are you doing? Slay her! Slay them all!**

For a moment, he almost caved in. For a moment, his fingers trembled, the seductive voice sounding so right, so good, and so wholesome. His vision shifted in and out. The voices slowed until he could no longer make them out. The weapon shook in his hand; his confused mind begging him to turn it back around. 

But he bit it down. He had been wrong and now it was time to make amends. He had to set things _right. _Now it was time to be a Hero.

Link gripped the sword harder until he felt it slice into his skin. A drop of blood trickled down the blade. 

He walked up to her, not wanting to break his gaze. Her eyes were full of fear now, the earlier anger gone.

He knelt and tipped the hilt of the sword towards her.

"You are right," he said with his head bowed. "I have wronged you. Now take my blade and take your vengeance."

**No!**

He heard Zelda gasp behind him. He could imagine Chizan holding on to her, preventing her from interfering.

The woman looked around, disbelief written on her face. "Is this some trick?"

"It is no trick, Milady. A life for a life. This is only fair. My actions were wrong and only you can right them. Justice must be served."

**Stop, you fool!**

Slowly, she handed her child over to her sister in law. Her fingers wrapped around the hilt of his sword. She raised it, gazing at the blade.

Link heard someone whimper behind him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the other two Freelanders cling to each other, fear plastering their faces.

She looked down at him, and something imperceptible clicked in her eyes. She swung the sword into position. He heard it cut through the air.

He swallowed, letting his eyes close. He focused on the only thing he could, on the only person he could. The world darkened, but he no longer cared. This way, he would go purified. This way was the only way. He had faced death so many times that he no longer feared it.

He saw Zelda's face before him. Shining, kind, loving. He had failed her, he did not deserve her.

All he heard was the steady thumping of his heart, and it was abnormally loud. The air felt too hot and stuffy, like he was being suffocated. His breathing slowed. Thump, thump, thump. He waited, waited, waited for that to end. He felt a bead of cold sweat roll down his face.

Something chopped the air.

"You are the Hero of Time. You are too important." It was the woman's voice. 

Link looked up at her. She had lowered the sword.

 "Your husband was a true hero," he said, when he could find his voice. "He had a wife, a family to support and feed with only his two bare hands. That is far more Heroic than anything I have ever done. He was a desperate man, pushed by desperate times. I had no right to take his life."

The woman's face creased in pain. The sword trembled in her hand, before clattering to the floor. She turned her face away.

"I forgive you, Hero of Time," she said as her voice choked. "But I do not forget. Your life is not mine to take. Leave me."

Link let out a breath and collapsed in a heap. His heart trembled with relief and salty tears stung his eyes. He felt Chizan's arms around him, lifting him up. His vision was blurred and everything was too hot and too loud. 

He looked into the Prince's eyes; saw the respect reflected in them.

**You win this one, Hero boy. But I'll be back.**

Link looked around and caught sight of Zelda's face. Her hand was in her mouth and her fingers were bitten raw. His heart sank, still seeing that wary, confused look in her eyes. He did not know what had turned her against him, but he was determined to find out. Yet, he saw something else too. Something that touched him to the core.

Link watched as one solitary tear rolled slowly down her cheek.

                                                                                                             *

"There's nothing in there."

Lorfor stepped back from the coffin, confused. His words echoed around the cave.

"You're right." 

The voice was from behind him and he turned. A little green-haired Kokiri girl walked towards him, her mature posture making mockery of her short stature and childlike features. He was shocked to see the wisdom swimming in her eyes.

"This is Saria," the white-robed woman said. "The Forest Sage."

His eyes flicked back to the golden case. "I don't understand."

"We all have our part to play, Lorfor," the Sage said. "However small, however large. Everyone has a role to play. We cannot leave our terrestrial lives until we have each fulfilled our purpose."

Lorfor could not quite believe he was listening to this from a child. He had to blink to make sure he was not dreaming

"In ancient scrolls known only to a select few," the other woman said. "It is written that an evil comes to Hyrule every one hundred summers and, in turn, a Hero rises to defeat it. This is the balance set up for our world. How? Why? We don't know."

"The cycle began thirty summers ago." It was the Sage speaking again. Lorfor's head was starting to spin. "Yet the evil that Ganondorf brought was wiped out when the timeline changed, even though we retain our memories of it."

He remembered that time, though he chose not to dwell on it. He was dragged to Ganondorf's castle on his knees, and then beheaded. The silver glint of the guillotine still taunted him at nights.

"So _this_ timeline still requires its evil. And its Hero," said the white robed one. Her voice was tinged with sadness. "Yet, we have a double evil this time. One from outside and one within the very soul of the Hero himself."

The Sage spoke, "The one who lay in this coffin had a role to play. She was the Counter Key, the one who could contain the evil so that the Hero could slay it."

Lorfor did not understand most of what they were saying, but the little girl was speaking with such melancholy that he had to resist the urge to hug her like he did whenever his daughters would be hurt or upset.

"She should have died," the other woman continued. "She plunged into the lava in Death Mountain."

Lorfor raised his eyebrows. "She survived _that?_"

"She was preserved. Her body only appearing burnt, though in reality she was put into a deep sleep," Saria said. "Whether it was by the Triforce itself or something else, we do not know. There are many things that remain mysteries. All that we know is that she was needed and the Great Deku Sapling charged us Kokiri to await her return." She paused, her voice reverberating off of the rocks. "Now is her time. Now we must begin our final assault against those whose souls are so envious that they would destroy all in their path to achieve their aims."

"Where is she now?" he asked, still trying to digest it all.

The white robed woman turned to him. "The Counter Key has accepted her fate. She has had to sacrifice being with her friends and family one more time to do so."

Lorfor realised that his question had not been answered, but something finally clicked inside his mind. Now he knew why the woman's voice seemed to familiar to him. She had the exact same accent as him.

He fixed her with a look. "Who are _you? _What is your role in all this?"

With a flick of her wrist, she dropped her hood, revealing Hylian features framed by strands of silver hair. The roots of her hair were dark though, as though there had been a change in colour over time.

"I am Malon, daughter of Talon, the owner of Lon Lon Ranch," she said. "I am the Counter Key."


	28. One Step Closer

Chapter 27

The sun rose over the sleeping town of Lon Lon, and the people stirred expecting to start their regular day of trading, feasting and carrying out chores. Some greeted this with optimistic enthusiasm whilst others grumbled, cursing the cucco that heralded the coming of dawn. But sadly for the townsfolk, this day was not like any other and some would see the sun rise for the very last time.

The town's gate cracked and then exploded in a cloud of splinters as the Morolak soldiers poured in, swords at the ready, eyes focused and dispassionate. The noise threw the town into panic, confused screams drowning out the cuccos' crows. The army spread through the streets, their dark purpose clear to all. Any who opposed them were cut down; men, women and even some of the braver children. Blood soaked into the dirt itself. The remaining townsfolk shut themselves into their homes, locking thick, metal bars into place across the doors and windows. There they huddled, holding on to each other tightly, listening to the wails of pain and fear. 

Death Mountain was infested with Morolaks. They crawled in, out and around the Goron City, taking the residents by surprise. The Gorons rolled into spheres, hoping to make a desperate counterattack. But the soldiers held firm, using their longshields to dodge the assault, thrusting swords and firing spinning fire-soaked arrows. The prisoners were tied up and, with malicious grins, the generals handed out whips that were then used to flay the Gorons' hides, splitting their skins and drawing blood. The chorus of despair echoed around the ancient mountain as it stood silently witnessing its worst day and preserving the memories for those that would come later. If any ever would.

Zora's Domain was overrun. The soldiers marched in, throwing spears and harpooning the water people like cornered whales. They poured a thick, black liquid into the waters, poisoning its crystal clarity. One of the soldiers carried a flickering torch to the water's edge. Pausing to attract the attention of his fellows, he slowly dropped the burning stick into the depths. A wave of flame erupted, spreading its fiery fingers around the once beautiful realm. Those that resisted were dragged to high diving points and flung into the inferno below; their piercing screams lingering in the air.

In the Freelander palace at Narik's Rock, the Freelander King bolted upright as a shimmering light spread across the ceiling of his throne room. His mouth hung open as Morolak warriors dropped through the glow, landing daintily on their feet. One of them threw his sword and it curved towards the Freelander in a spinning arc. Ren was there in an instant, deflecting the blade with his own before it reached the King's neck. Uncle and nephew locked gazes, united in grim determination. Ren's smile curved into shock and he gagged as a dagger flew into his neck. 

He dropped into the King's arms like a fallen tree. He looked up at his uncle's face, seeing the anguished expression etched there. The King held him tightly, lost in grief. He didn't see the Morolak soldier stride up behind him, didn't see the drawn sword and only realised too late, as the blade slid into his back.

Cyle stood on the pier leading to another of his Royal Ships, a wide grin splitting his face, Redstar Murden standing on one side, Chalance Vance on the other. The sorcerer's face was crumpled in concentration as the fingers of his right hand twirled and rolled through the air. His other hand held on tightly to a strangely carved staff that the King had never seen before. Vance muttered incantations under his breath as he opened portals all over Hyrule and the Freelander Emirate, giving the Morolak army easy access. The Gerudo's were overwhelmed after a lengthy battle, Kakariko and other similar places fell and blood ran in the streets of the Freelander's capital city. 

"It is done, Your Highness," Redstar said from behind a smirk. "There is none left to oppose you now."

Cyle threw back his head and laughed, long and loud. So simple. It had all been so simple. His soul trembled at the thrill of victory and his head spun with giddiness. Any and all opposition within his own lands would now be quelled. He had his own army, comprised of those that had signed on to seek vengeance after the defeat to the Freelanders. But now the Freelanders themselves were nothing more than a footnote in the great scroll of his plans. With another treaty signed between him and Redstar, he had secured himself as the sole power of the world. He _knew_ it. Knew it was his destiny to become Joined.

"I am grateful for your assistance, Redstar," Cyle said, unable to keep the drunk, gloating tone from his voice. He breathed in deeply, letting the tangy, sea air flood his senses.

"You are most welcome." Murden gave a short bow, his eyes twinkling. "Of course, I will be…ah…recognised as sovereign of Morolak in this new world order of yours?"

"Of course," the King replied with a smile. He turned to the young man. "How did you do it? How did you get the army to side with you without the permission of your King and Queen?"

Redstar gave a sly, self-satisfied shrug. "This is but a fraction of the armed forces my lands command. I only gave to you those that were disgruntled with their lot in the world."

Cyle nodded, content with the answer. He closed his eyes for a moment, listening to the calm waves slosh against the pier.

He turned to Chalance Vance, his Advisor still busy opening portals. "And Vance," he said. "You never told me you had such range in your power before."

The sorcerer turned, his fingers stroking his staff. He had a strange look in his eyes; possessive and defensive. "I've been…practising."

There was a commotion behind them and the trio turned. Two Hylian soldiers struggled with a pair of prisoners, kicking and resisting. The Hylians violently shoved them towards the King. With a swift kick to the back of their legs, the prisoners fell to their knees. Cyle recognised them both – the Gerudo, Nabooru and the Zora Princess, Ruto.

Nabooru glared up at him. "What's the meaning of this?" she spat. "We never reneged on our deal. We agreed my people would remain neutral."

Cyle smirked inwardly. Such pathetic naivety.

"Ah, my dear," he said, stroking the side of her face. "If you are not an ally, then you are an enemy. Or at least a potential enemy."

She jerked her heard away, snarling.

Cyle clicked his fingers and instantly a sword was handed over to him. He looked down at her, watched as the muscles clenched in her face, a mixture of fear and defiance staring back at him. 

"Did you think I would trust the Gerudo?" he asked in a quiet voice as he swung the sword into position. "Those that spawned Ganondorf himself?"

His fingers tightened around the hilt.

""No!" Ruto whispered, her eyes enlarged.

But it was too late. The blade flashed down, striking the Gerudo's neck. 

The corpse fell to the ground with a thud. Cyle sidestepped with a grimace of distaste, not wanting the blood to land on his boots.

"You monster!" Ruto cried, her face tightened in anguish as hot, salty tears flowing freely.

"You," Cyle said, scorn lacing his voice. "You're the one was always putting ideas into Zelda's head." His mouth curled in anger. "I wouldn't be surprised if you were the one that inspired her to betray me."

"Zelda didn't need me to tell her the truth. It was clear before her very eyes," Ruto answered, the fury in her voice matching Cyle's own.

He bared his teeth with a snarl and raised his sword.

"Wait."

Cyle flinched, annoyed at the interruption. It was Redstar who had spoken. 

The veins in Cyle's arms were throbbing now, and he would have struck his ally down too, so great was his frustration.

"Let me have her," the Morolak said, licking his lips. "As a gift."

Ruto grit her teeth. "I'd rather die."

Cyle chuckled. Redstar might have some sick tastes, but he could not deny that this would be more delicious than simply killing her.

"She's yours," he said. The King motioned to the Hylian soldiers. "Take her to the Morolak quarters."

They nodded and dragged her away.

"Vance," Cyle said, wiping the blood off of his sword with a white cloth. "The Key."

The sorcerer gave a short, sharp nod. "All is taken care of, Sire. She will be…ah…_winging _her way towards us soon."

"Good," the King answered, no longer bothered by his Advisor's cryptic remarks. He turned to the young Morolak and placed a hand on the man's shoulder. "You're in charge in of Hyrule until we return. I trust that there will be no problems. Vance will keep…an _eye_…on you through his agents."

Redstar grinned. "I am honoured, Your Highness. You will return to find everything as you left it."

Cyle sighed, his gaze falling on his ship. "Then let us depart, Chalance Vance," he said, his tone thoughtful. "Let us go to the Gate."

                                                                                                        *

Malon opened her eyes, letting the cries dissolve in her head. She sighed, steeling herself against the tears. She knew what her role entailed; she knew there was no place for weakness anymore.

Saria stared up at her, large eyes waiting expectantly.

"What did you see?" the Sage asked.

"The Enemy has made his most daring move," she answered, the words sounding foreign to her. She was never so eloquent with her words before, her farmgirl drawl always sounding so poor in the face of Zelda's elevated tongue. It was like she was a different woman. But then, death did that to a person. "The people are dying." She let the words roll in her mouth, tasting the bitterness of them. "Nabooru is dead."

Saria didn't flinch. "It's time you went to the Gate, Malon," she said, an encouraging child like smile warming her face.

The Counter Key closed her eyes, trembling as the burden of her responsibilities pressed down on her.  A far cry from having just horses and cuccos to tend to each day. "I know."

"Lorfor has agreed to go with you," the Kokiri continued. Malon was once more astounded by the maturity that resonated in the little girl's voice. "You can take the Helpers too. They've dedicated their lives to serving the Counter Key, spent their entire lives preparing for it."

She felt the lines around her eyes tighten as she tried to keep her head from spinning. She should be nothing more than a helper on a ranch, living out her days pouring her love on to her animals and waiting for her knight to come. She shouldn't be the Counter Key. The fate of her world shouldn't depend on her. 

She blinked as cold realisation hit her. She should be dead, that's what she should be.

"He doesn't have to do this," Malon said.

"He doesn't really have anything to lose."

Malon raised her eye at this, surprised at the clinical finality of Saria's words.

"How will we get there?"

"There's a ship prepared. Great Deku will speed it onwards," Saria said, taking Malon's hand in hers. "Don't worry. All will be well. You can do this. I _know _you can."

Malon gazed at the earnest look on the Sage's face and gave a small nod.

"We better get ready then," she said.

Saria smiled. "Say 'Hi' to Link for me. And tell him I'm mad that he hasn't come to visit me in summers!"

Malon shook her head, a sad smile trailing across her face. "No, I won't be seeing him." Her voice was soft, almost strained. "It'll be too painful for everyone."

She looked down at her companion, relieved to see the understanding shining in her eyes.

"I'll better go tell Lorfor to ready himself," Saria said, climbing down from the large chair with some difficulty. Malon thought it was almost comical.

"Okay," she replied, nodding to her friend as she left. 

Alone in her chambers once more, she felt the creep of melancholy within her. She began to hum, the tune filling her with warm memories of sunny days at the ranch, of her Papa frying eggs, of Epona nuzzling her head against Malon's face, of laughter as she, Zelda and Link lounged lazily in a barn, talking of the past, dreaming of the future.

She heard a light, musical lilt and gasped as a little bird fluttered through her window and perched itself upon her hand. She raised it, a warm smile spreading naturally across her face.

"Well, hello there," she cooed, stroking its head. It was green and it bobbed this way and that, like it was performing a little dance. Malon giggled.

She caught sight of her own fingers and grimaced. The skin was wrinkled and hanging loose. She knew she was on borrowed time, knew that as soon as her task was done, she would depart finally to rest, to let nature take its course. The sadness was heavy in her heart, but she had learnt to accept it.

The Great Deku Sapling had awoken her from her slumber as her Helpers had kept Lorfor captive in their cart outside. The wise tree had stroked her forehead with his branch and something had passed into her. She knew. She knew everything, about the Key, about the Gate, about her friends, about who she was…and about who had tried to kill her. And it had made her weep so much that she had fallen to her knees, her heart tearing from the unfairness of it all, as Saria had cradled her, speaking soothing words.

She closed her eyes and, giving the bird a soft kiss, let it fly. She watched it float away into the distance, and then focused, opening her mind, searching.

There they were.

Their images flickered into her mind. She watched as Link, Zelda, the Key and their companions trekked through the old Freelander mines. She concentrated her attention on to the Key, feeling desperate pity for the girl. Then she shifted to Link and Zelda, still separated physically and emotionally by scars that they did not know how to heal. Malon ached for them.

Zelda was striding ahead, the Prince close behind her, whilst Link kept himself back, walking with Zayna, Tyron and Malon's fellow Lon Lonners. She saw the pinched look on Link's face, knew that he had come to a decision. She knew that he was waiting for an opportunity to tell the Queen about it. And she also knew that he had made the _wrong_ decision.

"Link, my love," she whispered, her voice cracking. "Don't let her go. Please don't let her go."

                                                                                                                             *

Zelda trotted onwards, her feet feeling light as she let the cool air caress her face. She sniffed, smelling the musty aroma of the disused tunnels. Her eyes darted, scanning, though it was her hearing that she was focusing on more. One hand trailed against the hard, damp rocky walls, while the other gripped tightly to her wavering torch. The mines were a maze of old, crumbling tunnels criss-crossing this way and that. They had not brought a map with them, yet Zelda had managed to lead them, her ears hearing faint whispers that guided them aright. She did not know who or what the voices were, but they were gentle in tone so she trusted them. And her friends trusted her.

At other times, Chizan had stepped in, reading faded Freelander script that told of what was to come around the next bend or where to head next. He was trailing behind her now, his face a mask of concentration.

"We make a good team, Your Highness," he said with a light voice. She turned to him, seeing the grin she had expected. "Imagine what we could accomplish together."

Zelda fixed him with a look, finally tiring of the game. "Growing old while wandering around tunnels is not how I envisioned living 'happily ever after'."

He looked away, an amused glint in his purple eyes. "You wound me," he said playfully.

She sighed. "Look, _Your Highness_…"

He cut her off. "It does not matter." 

They walked for a while in silence. Zelda ground her teeth, wondering if she had hurt him, before his voice cut into her thoughts, "So why is there a wall between you and the Hero now?"

The Queen closed her eyes as confusion overtook her, a needle of pain throbbing in her head. Link's contradictory actions bewildered her and yet, she had not had the time to confront him over it. She did not even know what she would say. Her heart floated, couched in a dreamy warmth as she remembered what he had done at the Freelander village, but then the image would always come back driving icicles into her soul. Up and down, up and down.

But it was not with Chizan that she wanted to discuss such things. She glanced over her shoulder at the Hero of Time. His face was pale, more worried than usual.

"What's the matter, Link?" she called.

He fixed her with a hollow look. "I don't like tunnels," he said simply. 

Her eyes turned forward, a frown lining her face. Her mind turned back to the day at the Freelander palace, cornered in the corridor with Link. With a sinking feeling, she wondered if it had all been a mistake. Even if she hadn't witnessed his actions in the forest, what future did they really have together? She knew that if she ever got her Hyrule back that the Hylian upper class would viciously oppose any union between her and Link. And she relied on their support to help her rule – and she had to rule so that she could make certain that her people were happy, that her people were having all their needs met. She could not neglect them anymore than she could stop herself from breathing. Why should she sacrifice them for such a selfish emotion as love?

And what was love anyway? She had thought she had loved Cyle, thought that there would be no other for her but him. And Link – what did she really know about him now? What did she know about love? She knew of the love she had for her people, but had she known anything about two people bonded by love? She knew what the Hylian nobles would say. Love is just a passing fancy, an immature dream, it isn't important in a marriage. What was important was good breeding and a stable household.

Maybe they were right. Maybe she should just win favour with the nobility by marrying one of them and letting her live out her days fretting over the welfare of her dear people. She would die happy like that, she was sure. Maybe all she needed was a duke, a vice regent, a noble with good connections.

Or maybe a Prince.

She looked up at Chizan, his eyes peering into the dark ahead. "Here, hold this," she said, handing the torch over.

She slowed her pace, letting herself drop back until she was side by side with Link.

Fran noticed the gesture and put his arms around Zayna and Tessa. "How would you girls like to hear the story of how I once bagged a dozen boar in one night?" he said pulling them ahead.

Tessa grinned and Zayna scowled. "For the twentieth time, hunter?" she said.

Fran threw her a charming smile in response and looked over at Tyron, who hastily caught up to them. Chitz poked his head out from Tessa's travel pack and, seeing that they were still in relative darkness, bounced straight back in.

The hunter and the Queen exchanged glances and Zelda flashed him a grateful smile.

Her steps now in rhythm with the Hero's, Zelda glanced over to him. He did not look back.

Conflicting emotions churned within her and the dizzy confusion returned. She didn't know what to say.

"Link," she said calmly after a pause. "Is…" She swallowed, trying to push the apprehension away. "Is there something you need to tell me?"

He stopped short and spun round to face her. "Yes." His voice was cold. "I've been thinking."

She waited, not breaking from his gaze.

"I'm leaving," he said at last.

Zelda flinched. "What? Why?" she gasped.

"You said it yourself," he said with an empty misery to his words. "I would leave one day."

She shook her head. "But that doesn't explain why you have to leave _now!"_

"Not now," he said with a sigh. "As soon as this is all over. Once we've saved Zayna and secured your Throne." He paused. "Then I'll go."

"Why?!"

"Because I'm a danger to you and myself," he said, a sharpness cutting into his voice. It echoed around the tunnel. "I'll only cause you pain, Your Highness."

He moved to leave, but she snatched at his sleeve. "A danger? How?" she said, her mind whirling. He did not reply, only looked straight ahead. "What happened to you, Link? Tell me what happened!"

The Hero's face turned to her slowly and she shrank back from the sadness swimming in his eyes. "If I told you," he said, his voice soft. "You would think less of me."

Something deep within her acknowledged his admission, finally letting her know that something _had_ gone wrong somewhere, but it was overshadowed by the spark of anger. She was sick and tired of all the games. Why were men so ridiculously childish?

"Don't be absurd!" she cried, exasperated  "Of course I wouldn't!"

But then the image haunted her again. The moonlit butchery, up and down. 

Her hand loosened from his sleeve. He noticed. "Yes, you would," he said and pulled away.

They looked up as a shout rang from ahead of them.

                                                                                                                          *

Zayna let herself be dragged along, not really listening to Fran's words. From time to time, the old hunter would pause to plant a kiss on Tessa's forehead. The girl would giggle in response.

_Cute,_ Zayna mused, not having the heart to summon up her usual scorn over such matters. 

She let her eyes wander, not wishing to think. Every time she turned inwards she felt that familiar taunt of hope. She could do without it, do without the disappointed expectations. Her shoulders sagged, feeling the defeat she felt almost a hundred times a day whenever she considered her fate. But every time the negativity came, she drove it away with a determination edged with ice. This was her life, all day, every day as she struggled to fight off the gaping hole of despair that yearned to swallow her. And sometimes, the invitation was tempting.

Besides, they had to fight past the dragon first and that would be no easy feat.

A flash of light caught her eye. Chizan stopped short, making Fran skid to a halt.

"What is it?" Zayna asked.

"A cavern of some sort," the Prince answered in a preoccupied voice. He waved his torch around, trying to get more light. "Strange," he mused. "There shouldn't be any such thing here."

"Well, are we just going to stand around here and gawp or shall we check it out?" she snapped, jerking free of Fran's grasp and pushing past the Freelander.

She walked ahead as the tunnel opened out into a tall, wide cave. She looked up, spying large outcrops of granite and winding paths that led up to them. Tiny shards of rock crumbled off of them, like a fine rain.

"This isn't a natural formation," she said, as the others caught up to her.

"What do you mean?" Fran asked.

"Somebody built this."

Zayna heard a faint trickle of water, and her eyes were caught by a glimmer at the centre of the ground. She moved onwards with cautious footsteps, scanning the ground. A pool appeared in her vision, the water clear, but seemingly glowing. 

She crouched, unfastening her water pouch from her belt. "I could do with a drink," she mumbled. 

Her hand reached forwards.

"STOP!"

She froze, turning to the sound of Tyron's voice. He scrambled up to her, his face flustered.

She heard the sound of running footsteps and saw Link and Zelda appear from the tunnel.

"What's happened?" the Queen said, panicked. "What's wrong?"

"I know this place," Tyron said, gently pulling Zayna's hand away from the water.

She looked at him, waiting for an explanation. He waved the others away.

"Don't get too close," he warned. "This is an Eye to the Ages."

Zayna looked around, frustrated. "Well," she said, sarcasm creeping into her voice. "That makes everything so clear."

Tyron threw her a look before turning to the others. "This is a vortex. It shows other places and other times. The past, the future. Anyone who touches it is sucked in and dumped in whatever era the Eye chooses."

Zayna swallowed, taking a step back. "How do we see all this?"

"By looking into it," Tyron answered gravely. "Though…it may not necessarily show our _direct _future."

Zayna was puzzled by the words, but she had no time to ponder them. Excitement caught her. Finally, her mind could rest. Finally, she would know for sure what was to happen. It did not matter to her if it showed her the worst. At least then, she could finally sleep at nights without being prodded by dread anticipation. She took in a deep breath and leaned forward on her toes. 

Images swirled in the water as if someone had cast a stone, breaking its calm. Her heart caught, seeing her mother gazing up at her with large, kind eyes. 

It shimmered and dissipated before being replaced by a vision that made her mouth go dry. Tall, ancient, crumbling. She thought her sight would begin to spin dizzily. It was the Gate.

Someone was standing there. A man, standing triumphant. She squinted, before it become clear.

 Chalance Vance.

He had a knife in one hand, blood dripping from it. In his other he held onto a female, her head bowed low. Her arms were hanging lifelessly by her side. Zayna trembled, taking a step forward to get a closer look –

- and Link walked straight to the edge of the pool and looked in, no fear in his actions.

Zayna's images vanished and Link's took over. She blinked, disappointed.

A man appeared, old and kindly. It was dark, rain drummed in the distance.

"Link…" the man said. "Zelda is…"

Zayna frowned. She could see Link in the pool too, but he looked different. Younger, more innocent. Were they witnessing the past?

"…is your…"

She glanced over at the Hero of Time. His face was a tight knot of concentration as he hung on the apparition's words.

"…is your…destiny."

They all snapped to attention as a long, loud hiss rang around the cavern. 

Zayna spun, drawing her sword. Her head snapped to and fro, but she saw no one. 

"Keep close!" Zelda called. 

Zayna stepped into the huddle they formed, her back to Zelda, Chizan and Tessa. Link, Tyron and Fran were standing either side of her.

"Do you remember?" Chizan said. "We heard the same at the camp in the forest."

Link nodded, and Zayna saw the Queen throw him an odd look. 

"What is it?" she asked.

"We've been followed," Link answered, his voice tight.

Dark shapes flowed around them, red eyes gleaming. Zayna watched in horror as the very shadows themselves seemed to tear themselves off of the walls. The creatures moved towards them, black, curved swords waving menacingly.

"Shadow Wraiths!" Chizan cried, tension making his voice stretch. "Prepare yourselves!"


	29. The Fall

Chapter 28

Malon leaned back against the Great Deku Sapling, her eyes closed, as one branch stroked her hair. The leaves rustled, the sharp edges of the twig sometimes catching in her hair, giving her slight tugs. She didn't care, she found it comforting none the less.

"Oh, Great Deku," she said softly. "Why me? Why this?"

"You cannot worry about such things," the tree said in a low rumble. "You cannot change what you are."

She sighed, watching the Kokiri gather fruits from other trees and dig up vegetables from the soft soil of the meadow. Their only sources of food, provided and maintained by Great Deku himself as he tapped into the natural energy that bound the land. The Kokiri worked happily, their carefree laughs floating in the air as faeries danced around them sprinkling light.

"It's almost time for me to leave," she said with a sigh. "I tasted life for such a short, sweet time"

"You were never dead, only asleep," the tree replied. "Like Link when he was asleep for seven years."

She gently pulled a leaf from Great Deku's branch, letting it roll around her fingers.

"But I will be," she said. "When all this is over…_if_ I'm successful…then I will be gone."

Great Deku did not answer, and Malon let the sounds of the Kokiri Meadow envelop her, the childlike laughs, the squeaks of the faeries, the rush of tumbling water.

"Lorfor is almost ready," Great Deku said. The tree, not yet grown to its true stature as it had before Ganondorf had poisoned it when Link had been a child, still spoke in its usual gentle and wise tone.

"Yes," Malon answered. "And as soon as he is, I leave for the Gate."

There was a pause. "Where is the Key now?"

Malon breathed deeply, inhaling the smell of fresh flowers. She closed her eyes and opened her mind, harnessing the ancient skill the Sages of old had developed as an alternative to magic.

There was a pause as she watched the swirling images right themselves. The Great Deku Sapling waited patiently.

She flinched as the vision finally came to her. 

"They're…they're under attack…" Her voice was stretched. Muscles in her cheek twitched. "The Key is still with them."

Malon hissed.

"What is it, Sage of Hyrule?" Great Deku asked, concern spreading though his gravelly voice. "What do you see?"

"I…see the outcome of the battle," she said, her voice nothing more than a croak now. "I see the future."

Her eyelids shuddered as the intensity of what she saw overcame her.

She gasped.

"At the end of this day," said Malon. "One of them will be lost _forever_."

                                                                                                                       *

Zayna and Zelda backed up one of the winding paths as they fought off five of the hissing, howling Wraiths. A low ceiling covered this trail as it led upwards, almost like a tunnel in itself, though there was only one wall. Their swords clashed, the Wraiths' shimmering blades seemingly managing to wrap themselves around the two women's weapons. They dug their heels into the earth, letting dust swirl around their feet. Sweat flew off their faces with every thrust and parry.

They had been separated from the others during the initial attack and now they dodged and weaved, relying on each other as an extra eye, an invisible shield. A Wraith, just out of sight, reached for Zelda and Zayna instantly had her bow ready in a fluid movement.

"Your Highness."

No more needed to be said. Zelda ducked and Zayna released the arrow, watching it ram home into the Wraith's head.

"Zayna."

She jumped, and Zelda's sword flew under her, cutting into one of the creatures that was trying to sneak up on her.

Despite their situation, Zayna couldn't help but let the intense feelings of friendship wash over her. It had been too long, if ever, that she had felt this way about any group of people. Too long had she hid under the cover of mistrust, always trying to second-guess other people's intentions, always thinking the worst.

Zayna peered from the corner of her eye, looking down at the cavern floor where the four men fought. Even Tessa was getting in on the act, throwing rocks and screaming curses at their shadowy foes. The Imp swung wildly from her back, kicking and uttering obscenities. Zayna smiled grimly at the farmgirl's bravery. Stupid, but definitely brave.

She and the Queen took another few steps back as the Wraiths continued to hound them. Zayna glanced over her shoulder, her eyes managing to see through the gloom to realise that they were being driven back towards one of the granite outcroppings that hung high above the cavern floor.

"They're trying to push us over the edge," Zayna said with a grunt as she dodged another strike.

"I _see_ it," Zelda answered, her voice thick with tension.

"Another last stand, Your Highness?" she called, ducking an attack.

"Don't give up yet, Zayna!" her old mistress cried, kicking one of the creatures in the chest. The Wraith hissed and lunged towards her, but she spun away, letting him collide with the hard rocky wall.

Zayna heard the concern in the Queen's voice. "Don't worry," she replied. "I'm not planning to."

She wanted to turn to Zelda and smile, trying to reassure her friend, but a flicker of darkness snatched her eye. She looked up. A liquid black blade swung down towards her. Instantly, she flung her sword upwards blocking the blow. Tiny sparks burned into her face. The force was too strong though, and she felt her knees buckle as the Wraith pushed down. 

It hissed, its red eyes burning through her. She screamed in rage, feeling her legs shake with pain. She would _not_ let them beat her. She _would not!_

The creature craned its neck forward, forked tongue darting out between needle like teeth as it grinned in victory. 

A chance!

Zayna jerked her head forward cracking it into the Wraith's jaw. Its grip on its sword loosened, and Zayna pulled her blade up ferociously disarming it. She cracked it in the chest with a sharp kick and it fell to its knees, stunned. Another smooth swing with her sword separated its head from its neck. 

She stepped away, gasping for breath. She looked around, searching for the Queen. Zelda had backed further up the path, ducking a swing from one of the Wraiths while parrying another. She was standing dangerously close to one of the granite ledges. Zayna ran towards her, twirling her sword. 

A foot snaked out from the shadows and she fell, her jaw bouncing into the grit and sending shooting pains into her mouth. Her sword flew from her hand, spinning off the edge of the outcropping. She caught a glimpse of a sparkling sharp point falling towards her like a shooting star and she jerked left, then right, dodging it. Zayna no longer had the time to think, acting purely on instinct and adrenaline. 

She flicked her leg up in an attempt to kick her assailant, but it side-stepped easily. She rolled, needing to get enough space so that she could stand and fight back. Zayna felt the dirt streak her face and lodge under her fingernails. Her heart hammered in her chest and her breath was too short and too quick.

Zayna tried to get up to one knee, but a massive, meaty shadow of a hand ploughed into her neck with a force she thought would snap it. She gagged as she was lifted effortlessly up, her eyes bulging. She clawed at the creature's arm and kicked at thin air. Dark blots coloured her vision and her eyes swam. Choking pain burned down her throat. She felt the Wraith's other hand grab her and she was lifted up completely, her world spinning.

Zayna saw where the Wraith was going, saw clearly what its intentions were. She braced herself, knowing the pain that was certain to come. Her mind drifted, and the image of her mother's sad face cane to her. At that instant, Zayna finally realised how much pain her mother had had to go through, bringing up a daughter on her own and knowing what that child truly was. Zayna hoped that wherever she went next, she would be able to see her mother one more time just to apologise for everything and soothe the scars in her soul.

And then she was thrown straight towards the edge.

                                                                                                                   *

Ruto spat at Redstar as she gripped the bars of her cell. 

The young Morolak wiped it off his face, regarding her with an amused look. She hated the way he looked at her, that lecherous curve to his mouth; his intentions clear in the gleam in his eye. It sickened her. 

She looked back at the other prisoners, tied up and huddled together. There about six to each cell, when there was only room for two. Their necks were bent with despair, and every time they accidentally brushed against one another, they snapped. Which is exactly what their captor wanted, Ruto thought. If the prisoners were too busy being annoyed with each other they would not be able to unite and plan some sort of escape.

"Looks like I'm going to have to teach you to be a lot more affectionate," he said, his breathing becoming heavier as he stepped closer. 

She glared at him. "You disgust me," she snapped. "There is nothing you can do that will make me do anything you want."

"My, my, my," he chuckled. "Such harshness from such a sweet mouth."

He raised his hand, letting it pass through the bars, meaning to touch her face. She kept her face still, forcing her muscles to clench, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing her flinch. Mistaking her defiance as compliance, he edged his hand closer, his lips opening slightly in anticipation. With an abrupt snarl, she opened her mouth and bit down on the young man's fingers.

He howled, backing away.

"How do you like my sweet mouth now?" she hissed, a trickle of his blood rolling down her chin.

Redstar growled, breathing deeply and nursing his injured hand. She tried to keep the look of satisfaction from her face, knowing that that would provoke him more than her bite ever could.

Or so she thought.

"Let me show you who's in charge here," he spat, attempting to regain his composure.

He clicked the fingers of his healthy hand. 

Ruto swallowed as she saw his guards drag in the form of a fallen Zora. She peered down closely to see who it could be, though the chill that had settled on her heart had told her enough. 

Redstar grabbed the Zora male by the hair and pulled his head back, revealing the face of Mayro, her husband. Trepidation gnawed at Ruto, as she wondered what the Morolak would do. It had taken her one full year to win Mayro's heart. She had coaxed him playfully; popping up when he had least expected it, in short, becoming such a regular fixture in his life that he had had no choice but to embrace her onslaught. Other might scoff, but that was the way she did things.

They had married, spending many sweet summers together. They had been gifted with many children though she did not know where they were now.

And now, it could be all taken away from her.

A dark emptiness opened in her heart and she forced her tears back.

"See this?" the Morolak said with a laugh. "Take a good look, Princess. Because after I've finished with him you wont recognise him at all."

Ruto screamed, clinging onto the bars and shaking them uselessly. "No!"

"Oh, yes," he said, pure malignance coating his voice. 

                                                                                                                  *

Zelda dived into Zayna's path, preventing her fall. Her friend slid away, still perilously close to the edge. Zelda's heart leapt to her mouth. They reached for one another, their fingertips brushing. 

Zayna tumbled over the edge with a shocked yelp, holding on only with her fingers.

Desperate, the Queen scrambled towards her and reached. She shrieked as a foot stomped into the back of her knee.

"Protect the Key!" she screamed, turning around to look up at her attacker. She heard urgent shouts from below and saw Zayna try to claw her way back. Her friend slipped, losing her grip with her left hand and swinging out over the abyss. Angry at not being able to help, Zelda thought back to the many summers' of training her first Advisor, Impa, had given her in the Sheikah skills. Always think two steps ahead, always keep your opponent off guard. She rolled back, then sprung to her feet, her sword in her hand instantly. 

The Wraiths surrounded her, their weapons prodding. 

Zelda stood straight, her blade pointing down. She let calm serenity ease her face and relax her body. 

Confused by her reaction, the Wraiths hesitated. 

Just as she wanted. 

In a blur, her sword was thrown into the roof of the tunnel and a shower of rocks fell. She dodged, watching with grim satisfaction as the Wraiths fall into unconsciousness. 

She leapt towards Zayna, reaching for her hand and –

- Zayna finally slipped and the Queen snatched at thin air.

"No!" she gasped in shock. 

Zelda slid to the edge, falling flat on her stomach. She peered out cautiously, gulping as she feared the worst.

Zayna had landed on Chizan, Tyron and Fran. They lay there in a tangled heap, moaning in pain. 

Zelda let her head fall to the ground in relief. They were probably hurt and may even have some broken bones, but they were all alive, thank goodness. 

The Queen got to her feet, her knees shaking as she leant on the wall for support. She breathed deeply, trying to still her hammering heart. Zelda peered into the tunnel beyond, a shadow obscuring her view.

And then the shadow _moved._

She ran as the Wraith bounded after her. Up and up she went, the twisting, turning path passing by more of the granite outcroppings that led to thin air. Once or twice, she slipped, her ankle cutting into sharp rocks in her path. With a scowl, she willed herself onwards as the muscles in her legs screamed in pain.

Another outcropping appeared and suddenly her feet lost all traction. This time she did fall, skidding towards the rim and the great yaw below.

Something gripped her ankles and she shrieked as she was lifted into the air. A few steps and then she was dangling over the edge, catching faint glimpses of the piles of jagged rocks spinning below. There would be no one to break her fall; the others still tied up in a heap. She was far too high and her head swam seeing the tiny figures of her friends below.

Panic seized her and her mind and soul turned instinctively to the only person that truly mattered to her, the only person she knew could save her.

"Link!"

She swung slowly high above the cavern floor, like a leaf being buffeted to and fro in the breeze. She scanned the ground, wanting to see his face one last time.

"Zelda!"

She heard his anguished shriek and turned her head towards the sound of his voice. Zelda saw his wide-eyed, panicked expression as he ran, sheathing his sword. Their eyes locked. Despite everything, despite what she had seen him do in the forest, despite the fact that she knew she was going to die, the miniature look on his face tugged at her heart. Large, blue eyes filled with concern, blonde hair flapping, he looked just like he had as a child, innocently accepting her quest to find the three Spiritual Stones.

She smiled.

And then the Wraith let go.

                                                                                                                    *

Cyle let himself go as the waves gently swayed his ship. Sleep washed over him, and he welcomed it, feeling content at last. The sour taste of defeat had finally been removed by the sweet nature of his total conquest. It was amazing how everything had fallen into his lap. Once again, he couldn't help but think that it was destiny guiding him towards his final victory.

Well. Everything had fallen into his lap except the Key.

He sat up, listening to the steady creak of the ship as it bobbed up and down on the sea. The vessel cut through the ocean like a fiery arrow, pushed along by Chalance Vance's magic. He still did not understand exactly how – or when – the sorcerer had augmented his power. 

Still. That was the least of his concerns. The Key was still out there somewhere. And Zelda had her.

That last fact burned him more than the defeat at Narik's Rock ever could. He simply would not allow Zelda – and by extension that mongrel Link – to possess a being of such power. The Key was _his_, he was born to take it, use it and ultimately discard it as he saw fit. It was simply intolerable that she was not in his grasp right now.

No doubt his Queen and the snivelling Hero would not take advantage of the power inherent in the Key. They would try to hide her from him, or help her or Triforce knows what! He could imagine their conversations now, worried expressions mixed with gentle voices as they discussed what the kindest way to deal with the Key was.

He sneered at their weakness.

He heard an urgent rap at his door.

"Yes, what is it?" he called.

"Sire," came the voice from outside. Probably one of his soldiers, newly recruited from the forced conscription in Hyrule. "Our destination in is in sight."

The smile came to Cyle's face without him even thinking about it and he felt his heart tremble with a mixture of hope and joy. He ran up the steps to the deck, letting the wind ruffle his hair. At the bow of the ship he saw a thin line of steam hiss, making his vessel appear that it was being driven along by a cloud. Another feature of the ship's now enhanced speed.

Chalance Vance turned to him as he approached the port side of the deck.

"There," the sorcerer said simply.

He needn't have said anything, as the small island was perfectly clear, sitting there on the horizon with a deceptively calm charm. 

The muscles in Cyle's throat tightened and he leaned forward to grip onto the railing at the ship's edge. He saw the traces of green vegetation lining the edge of the coast and tall, thin trees jealously guarding what was within from prying eyes. Wrapped around the entire island was a fine, slow moving mist.

The King of Hyrule sighed in deep satisfaction. "It's beautiful."

                                                                                                                  *

"No!"

Link's hookshot was in his hand as soon as he had seen the dangling Zelda and he had fired it before the creature had even dropped her. The spike caught into the wall far above and he was lifted dizzily towards the plummeting Queen. She spun, the rocks on the floor drawing nearer and nearer. His eyes tight with pain, Link could do nothing but watch as a cry of despair escaped from the back of his throat. 

The hookshot was too slow! Too slow!

_Please, please, PLEASE!_

When he was high enough, he shifted his weight and swung down in an arc, as Zelda continued to fall. Closer and closer he got, and he reached out, screaming as her body tumbled. 

Too late! He was too late!

His fingers brushed touched her tunic, her face heading for a point blank collision with a jagged spike of rock that leered up from the ground –

- and he caught her at the last instant, savouring the warmth of her body as they swung back up. 

She lifted her face to his, tears flowing down both their faces. Her mouth split into a wide, shining grin. It was the most beautiful sight Link had ever seen. They melted into each other's arms, weeping.

"Link, you saved me!" she cried.

They landed up on another ledge, and Link disengaged his hookshot, watching as the chain snaked back towards him. 

They held each other, shuddering with sobs of relief, nothing else mattering to them at that moment except the other. The hiss of the Wraiths faded to muffled whispers, all thoughts of Cyle, the Key, the Joining, and their friends drifting away. There was nothing in Link's eyes, mind and soul except Zelda. Their grips were tight, cutting into each other's skin and yet, to them, it was the most exquisite pain they had ever felt. Nothing could have torn them from each other at that moment, nothing.

Link lifted his eyes, trying to sniff his tears away. He caught a flicker of movement from further on down the passage. Anger curled his mouth as he saw one of the Wraiths trying to slink away.

**They tried to kill Zelda! Make them suffer!**

The Hero pushed the Queen away from her, making her face crease with confusion. 

"Link…?" she whispered, her voice hoarse. 

He drew his sword and marched after the creature, his ferocious steps crushing pebbles into dust. Fury twisted his features, and his eyes narrowed. 

**Let me deal with this! Let me have control!**

The Wraith saw Link coming and he backed up, hitting a wall. Seeing the look on the Hero's face and seeing no way to escape, the creature clawed against the rocky face, desperate. 

Link caught up to it, and it whirled, sword ready. 

**Let me have control!**

The Hero of Time swung his sword in a smooth arc, slicing through the Wraith's sword arm. It howled and slithered to the ground, defeated. 

An insane sparkle glazed over Link's eyes as he raised his sword. The Wraith looked up at him fearfully.

**Let me…**

He weakened, the world around him dissipating into a funnel of hate directed at the Wraith.

"…have…"

The word tore from his throat in a beast like utterance.

**…control!**

"Link, stop!" Zelda's voice rang out. It was shaking with icy apprehension. "He's beaten. You've won, you don't need to slay him like this!"

It only took a moment.

Link hesitated, as if he was hearing Zelda's voice for the first time in his life. Her voice caressed him, reached into the depths of his soul where his true heart lay, beating strong, proud and pure.

**Don't listen to her! Let me have control!**

He turned his head slowly, the sword shaking in his hands. He saw Zelda's pained expression and his eyes widened in shame and pain. Horror lined her face and her eyes were pleading as she stood rigid with clenched fists and tight, pale knuckles. 

It only took a moment.

His jaw trembled and he felt his cheeks burn with shame. How could he have let her seen her like this? How could he have let himself become this? And finally, he realised, like a coin dropping in his head. He knew why she had avoided him ever since that encounter in the forest. Known what she must have seen.

It only took a moment.

"Zelda," he whispered. "Forgive me."

He felt the blade start to slip from his hands.

It only took a moment…

…for the Wraith to reach down, grab its sword and plunge it straight through Link's heart.

He fell to his knees, his eyes rolling as Zelda's agonised scream tore through the cavern, horror, pain, fear and disbelief reverberating therein.

Slowly Link dropped forward, as the Wraith rolled and scampered away. His head hit the ground with a thud.

The blonde haired Hero of Time closed his eyes for the very last time.


	30. Lullaby

Chapter 29

There was far too much blood. She did not think that people even had this much within them.

Zelda knelt beside her fallen Hero, her heart pounding in her ears. Deathly silence cocooned her as she looked down at Link's pale face, his eyes shut tight. The pool of thick, dark blood soaked into her clothes until she could feel it tickle her legs, making them itch. The metallic stench making her feel dizzy. But these were all thoughts that were far at the back of her mind.

He was too still. No one should be this still. 

"No."

The sword was still stuck in his body, its tip pointing out from his back, its hilt resting against his chest as it scraped the ground. It was jerking minutely, as if in time with the beating of his fading heart. Life was still there, but it was seeping out fast.

"No."

Her fingers curled around the hilt, but she could find no grip, so slippery it was from the blood. Her hands went to her head as panic assaulted her. If she could have seen herself from the outside, she would have seen her blonde hair stained with Link's blood, her wide eyes red with tears and her trembling face stretched with grief. A pit opened in her soul, threatening to drag her under.

She welcomed it.

This couldn't be happening. He was the Hero of Time; he would not be struck down in such a meaningless, random way. She clutched onto his arm, her mind aflame as she tried to focus, tried to find a solution, a way out. It could not end like this. She would not allow it. She was the Queen of Hyrule, she was one of the great Sages, whenever she wanted for something she just had to command it and it was there. 

"Awaken," she said, her voice a feeble croak. Some part of her mind whispered to her, telling her how foolish she was being. Telling her that there was no answer to death. She pushed the thought away angrily. "Awaken," she whispered letting go of his arm and cradling his head. "Your Queen requests it."

She rocked him back and forth, the tears flowing easily now. She did not realise it, but she was humming. A soft, comforting tune played on her lips as her voice shook. Her lullaby. The one that was sung to her when she was a child, when she was wide awake, fidgeting with energy, tiring her parents who wished she would just sleep. The one Impa taught Link to play on his fairy ocarina when they had first met at her castle.

Life had been so simple back then, this innocent eyed boy bounding off on a quest, just for her. Her heart rent asunder at the memory. She wished bitterly that she could go back to that time, before she had become a Queen, before she had been burdened with the role of being one of the Sages of Hyrule.

A Sage.

Zelda froze, an idea curling around in her head. Strengthened by a surge of determination, she looked down at Link's face. It might just work. It had never been tried before, she knew. She also realised that she would be violating codes that had been taught to her long ago.

She did not care.

Placing her hands on Link's face, she closed her eyes and opened her mind.

And entered his.

                                                                                                                            *

"Ow."

Fran sat up, blinking as he waited for his surroundings to stop spinning. For a moment he almost forgot where he was, thinking that Lon Lon had changed a lot since last night. For a start, it had more rocks. 

His memories returned, and he turned with a jump, searching out his friends.

"Zayna…?" he called softly. The others were still piled in a heap, arms and legs entwined. Briefly, Fran wondered what his wife would have thought of him now, accompanying a Queen, a Prince, a Hero, a wise man and the Key to a meeting with a dragon, so that they could avert an apocalypse. He grinned inwardly. She'd probably smack him around the head and tell him to go find a boar for supper. The most adventuring he'd ever done was hunting in Melody Forest.

He heard a moan and saw the young woman stir. "Good thing…" she said, standing to her feet and pointing at Fran's middle. "That you're so well-fed or else I would have had a harder landing."

Fran grinned in relief. "On the contrary," he said, cradling his arm with mock pain. "If you would just lose a little weight, I could have caught you single-handedly."

She shot him a vicious look as she rubbed her head. "Oh really?"

Fran laughed, helping Tyron and the Prince to their feet. 

"Are you hurt?" he asked them. 

Tyron smiled and clasped the hunter's shoulder. "Takes a lot more than a falling damsel to rid you of the Old Man of Hyrule Castle," he said. "Though," he continued, a twinkle in his eye. "I never realised Keys were so heavy."

Zayna folded her arms across her chest, narrowing her eyes.

The mirth lightened Fran's heart. He knew the teasing was coming from the sheer relief of having saved Zayna from death.

He turned to the Prince and saw him brushing himself down. 

"I am fine," Chizan said.

Fran nodded, familiar enough with the Freelander to know that he would not continue. He let his gaze wander around the cavern. "Looks like the Wraiths have left us."

"For now," the Prince replied. 

"So optimistic," Zayna said with a smirk.

Fran heard running footsteps. He turned and his spirits rose as he caught sight of Tessa, grinning wildly.

"Papa!" she cried, letting herself be lifted and twirled around. "Are you okay?"

"Of course, my darling," he said, ruffling her hair. He searched her face for injury, his voice turning solemn, "Are you hurt?"

"No," she said with a smile. "Chitz and I are fine."

As if on cue, the Imp popped his head out from the travel pack on Tessa's back and rested his chin on the top of her head. "Haha…sure are, boss," he said. "Fought them all off myself…haha."

"Tsk, Chitz," she answered, her eyes rolling up to try and see him. "You were begging me to run like a Cucco."

The Imp ignored her, choosing instead to regard the Prince. "Haha…I see the Freelander survived. Great shame! Great shame! Haha." His voice lowered to a mutter. "Didn't pay those Wraiths well enough. Haha."

Chizan fixed him with a glare, but Fran broke the tension.

"Where are Link and the Queen?" he asked his daughter.

Tessa responded by pointing upwards. "They went into that tunnel there," she said, chewing her lip nervously. "I heard the Queen scream."

Fran and Chizan exchanged panicked glances and darted off, dodging the pool so that they were close enough to the tunnel to be able to make themselves be heard.

"Your Highness! Link!" Fran called. "Can you hear us?"

They waiting, listening to his voice fade away. 

Chizan pushed past him. "My Queen!" he shouted, his purple eyes dancing with fear. "Are you there?"

"I think we should go up there," Tyron said from behind them.

Fran nodded and they made their way to one of the many winding paths that lead upwards.

                                                                                                                        *

Zelda felt like she was swimming through thick, viscous liquid. Cold and clammy, it stuck to her skin, chilling her to the core. She could not concentrate, her mind spinning, not able to anchor herself to a fixed point. There was no up and down here, no left and right, no front and behind. Things swirled, images, voices, lights and sounds. She felt herself be swallowed, felt herself be softly pulled apart like dough, melting into her surroundings. 

A face appeared before her, stern eyes drilling into her. She recognised him immediately. 

"Rauru," she said. "What are you doing here, Sage of Light?"

"No," he answered, his voice matching his expression. "The question is what are _you_ doing here?"

She stayed silent, floating above the nothingness. 

"I cannot allow you to do this," he continued. "This is not what a Sage's power is for."

Zelda tried to look past him, as if impatient to be away.

"Then a Sage's power is worthless," she replied, finally meeting his gaze.

"If we were permitted to interfere whenever any of our loved ones were near death, there would be chaos," he said. "And it would be grossly unfair."

Zelda kept her eyes on him, willing her face to stay emotionless. "Thank you for your concern," she said. "Now let me pass. Or else I'll lose him."

He let his head hang low, a defeated look in his eyes. "If you are successful," he warned, "Then you will no longer have access to your Sagely powers. You, your children, your children's children – not until one hundred summers have passed."

She itched to be rid of him. At any other time, she would have welcomed his words and his company. Now, she only had one person in her mind.

She was tired of people telling her what to do and, more specifically, what she could not do. If you do this, you can't do that, if you take this route, then you can't travel that path. If you marry him, you can't be Queen.

Zelda fixed Rauru with a glare. "Then so be it."

He vanished without a word and she felt herself be propelled forwards, her hair flying despite not being able to feel any wind. A whirlpool of myriad images sucked her in, spinning slowly as they came to a stop.

She felt cool, crisp air flood her lungs and the sun's warmth on her face. Soft, wet soil stroked her feet. She looked up.

Zelda was standing in a meadow, little birds fluttering in the wind as they sang. A giant tree stood in the centre, tall and imposing.

A Hylian woman appeared, blood trailing down her torn clothes. Her hair was tussled, a wild expression etched on her face. She fell to her knees and Zelda saw that she carried a bundle in her arms. She could make out a dirty, white cloth covering what lay inside. 

Zelda wanted to reach out and help the woman, but her feet felt heavy.  She was rooted to the spot just like the tree.

The woman crawled towards the tree, gasping for breath as life faded from her eyes. 

Gently, she lay the bundle at the foot of the tree. Zelda saw it twitch, saw a flash of blonde hair and realised at last what it was.

"I name him A'linkradu," she said with a raspy voice.

Zelda almost jumped as the tree rumbled, its leaves and branches rustling.

"Link," it said. 

"Yes," she gasped as her head sank to the ground. "It means…"

"…he of a Clear Heart," the tree answered.

She nodded, the ghost of a sad smile on her lips. "Be happy, Link," the woman whispered. "My greatest desire is that your heart always remains pure."

Zelda swallowed as the vision broke up, swirling in a mass of colour before being replaced by another.

She saw Link, small with wide blue eyes as he climbed a tree, no more than ten summers old. His soft face was wrinkled with concentration. A crowd surrounded the base of the tree, pointing at laughing.

She looked up into the branches and saw a chick trapped there, broken wing flapping as it sung mournfully. Link climbed onto the branch, whispering words to the little bird. He was balanced precariously, and Zelda held her breath as the tree trembled from his weight. The little boy wasn't daunted though and he motioned to the bird with a big smile. 

The chick eyed him carefully and then made a few tentative hops in his direction. Link's hopeful smile grew and he reached forwards, scooping the bird up.

There was a crack, and the branch broke, Link falling to the ground with a yell. 

Zelda flinched.

The crowd exploded in laughter, as the little boy sat there sniffling. He cradled the bird, comforting its anguished cries.

"You did all that for a bird?!" a voice shouted, coarse and mean. "You stupid boy!"

Link looked up, holding out the chick. "But look," he said, the earnest tone in his voice making Zelda's heart break. "It's just a baby!" He smiled, triumphant that they would see sense.

But the people just laughed harder. "Yes, just like you!" another called. "A little baby girl!"

"The great Hero of Time is just a soft hearted weakling!" 

Zelda frowned, realising that this event must have taken place soon after she had sent him back as a child in the other timeline.

Link looked around at the people as they dispersed, confusion lining his face.

Abruptly, Zelda's legs felt lighter and she could move. She walked towards the child, wondering if he could see her.

He looked up, and she saw the tears swimming in his eyes.

"Who are you?" he said.

She knelt down, wiping the tears from his face. Just seeing him alive again in any form made her quiver in excitement. "A friend."

"You're very pretty," he said.

She grinned, wanting to hug him. "That's a cute bird you have there."

Joy filled her heart seeing the happy expression that lit up on his face. "Thank you," he said. "No one else seems to think so, though."

"Don't worry about them, Link," she said. "You do what you think is right."

He looked at her, puzzled. "How do you know my name?"

She smiled. "Everybody knows Link, the Hero of Time."

"Oh," he said, his eyes falling to the chick again. "You look like somebody I know."

"Really?"

"Yes," he said, stroking the bird's head. "The Princess in the castle. She's my friend."

Link reached for his belt, pulling out a fairy ocarina. "Listen," he said.

Tears sprung to her eyes as he started playing her lullaby. "It helps me to sleep at night," he said. Abruptly, he stiffened. "Don't tell anyone though!"

He looked away, embarrassed.

"I won't."

He grinned. "Good! I live at the castle now. They gave me a room next to all the other servants. Sometimes I get to see the Princess."

She studied his face, amazed at how innocent he looked. "You must have a lot of friends."

"Not really," he answered. "Saria was my friend too," he added as an afterthought.

"And the Princess?"

"She's always busy." His words tugged at her. "But that's okay."

She sighed, not wanting to let herself cry. How could he be so forgiving?

"Don't you feel lonely?" she whispered.

"Sometimes," he said. "But it's okay, because I'm the Hero of Time! And Heroes don't get lonely."  He gave her a brave grin.

Zelda looked away, letting his words sink in. She played with the grass, wondering why she was seeing all this. Did this mean he was still alive?

"My momma loved me." He blurted the words out, like he had suddenly recalled something important.

She glanced up. "I'm sure everyone loves you, Link."

He shook his head. "No, no," he said. "Only my momma. Though I don't really remember her."

A frown creased her face. "What about Saria? And the Princess?"

Link chewed the inside of his cheek, pondering. "Well, they're my friends. But they don't _really_ love me." He smiled, satisfied at his answer. "Only my momma did that."

Zelda blinked, reaching out to touch his face, but he faded away and vanished.

Images danced around her and she waited patiently. The castle courtyard appeared and she saw herself as a little girl, waiting, waiting, waiting.

She could see the excited anticipation in her features.

And suddenly, he was there and the little girl gasped. 

Little Zelda straightened her back, regarding Link with cold eyes. 

"So, you've come back?" she said. 

He gulped and nodded.

A small face creased her lips. "I want to thank you for everything," she said. "You have done us proud, Hero of Time."

He held out his hand, hoping that she would take it. But little Zelda turned away.

Link hung his head, crestfallen.

Zelda bit on her lip, remembering the event. It was the moment after he had returned to the new timeline as the Hero of Time. She remembered her feelings there, remembered anxiously counting down the hours before he would come to her. She knew he would, the two timelines still joined as one until Link had freed the Master Sword after collecting the three Spiritual Stones for her. And she remembered when he had finally appeared, her pure happiness at seeing him again, so much so that she had felt like she would float away like a cloud. But she was young and not used to conversing with anyone outside of her family. Her shyness that had prevented her from speaking to him freely.

Zelda closed her eyes, concentrating on those emotions. She formed a bubble with her mind, filling it with the feelings of joy and relief she had felt back then. She took the bubble in her fingers, then blew on it gently with a soft kiss. It floated towards the little boy and surrounded him. His eyes closed and he smiled.

The landscape shifted.

Link, older now, sat under a tree, the moonlight reflecting off of his sword and shield. He looked pensive, his features deep in thought. He sighed, flipping his ocarina up from his belt.

Slowly, he started playing a song.

Her lullaby.

"Must you always play that song?" a voice teased.

Zelda gasped as Malon came into view. She felt herself tremble. Her old friend looked so real she could reach out and touch her.

Link looked up at her with a smile. "I like it."

She sat down besides him, handing him a piece of fruit before biting into her own, juices trickling down her chin.

"Where's Zelda tonight?"

"Oh," he said, an edge creeping into his voice. "She's with Cyle at some banquet."

Malon glanced at him edgeways, the corners of her mouth curling in a smile. "You don't seem to approve, Link."

"It's nothing to do with me," he said, leaning back against the tree. He smiled at Malon. "Besides, we have our own banquet here."

She laughed, taking another bite out of her fruit. They were silent for a while, before she said, "Link. If you had a chance to travel in time again, where would you go?"

"You mean 'when' would I go," he replied dryly.

She elbowed him playfully. "You know what I mean."

Link looked up at the moon with a sigh. "I'd go back and see my mother. Just once."

The images twirled again. 

Zelda was on a flat, white plain. The wind howled, tugging at her hair. Where?

Someone was kneeling ahead of her.

"Link…?"

The Hero of Time was as she had left him in the cavern, a sword puncturing his chest.

Another person was there, pacing around him. He was dressed all in black. Something dark radiated from him, not anything physical, but she could feel it nonetheless.

She looked at the Shadow. "Who are you?"

The other looked up and she took a step back in shock. Glowing red eyes glared back at her from a face that looked just like Link. 

The Shadow ignored her, letting his gaze drop to the Hero.

"**You don't need her here**," the shadow said in a quiet, calm tone. "**Tell her to go**."

"I don't need you here," Link repeated, his voice hollow. "You must go."

Zelda felt icy dread swallow her. She shook her head frantically. "No, Link, no! I've come to take you back."

The Shadow continued pacing, throwing her a sneer. "**You don't want to go back there. It's cold and full of people that would hurt you. Like her**."

"I don't want to go back there," Link said, his words sounding strained in the wind. "It's cold and full of people that will hurt me." He paused. "Like you."

Zelda felt her vision reel. She tried to hold on, tighten her grip on her senses. Who _was_ that other person, the Shadow that looked just like her Link?

"That's not true, Link! Don't listen to him."

Feeling exasperated, she ran towards him. A wall of clear crystal tore up from the ground, blocking her path.

"**Nobody loved you except your mother**," the Shadow said, finally stopping to stand at Link's back. "**Nobody else wants you there**."

"Nobody loved me except my mother. Nobody else wants me there."

Zelda let herself go. All her regrets, all the times she had let herself be taken by doubt because of other people's words.

"I love you, Link," she whispered.

Her heart felt light, a huge burden floating away. She was free at long last.

The Shadow flinched and the wind roared louder. "**Don't listen to her**," he barked. "**She's a liar. She hurt you before**."

She steeled herself, pouring her whole heart into her words.

"_I _love you, Link"

The Hero of Time looked up, doubt lining his face.

"Really…?" he said softly.

Zelda almost collapsed in tears. He hadn't known for sure for all these summers? With a chill that sunk to the pit of her stomach, she realised that she had never told him. 

"That can't be…" he said. The confusion in his voice made her heart ache. "Only my mother…"

"_I love you."_

She felt like she was going to choke, felt she would drown in her own tears.

All of a sudden, the crystal shattered and the Shadow disappeared. 

Zelda hesitated, cautious apprehension simmering within. Her breath was short and her heart caught in her throat. She waited another moment, watching as Link stayed disturbingly still, the wind making strands of his hair flicker across his forehead.

Her mind tingling, Zelda walked towards him slowly, scared that he might float away. She tensed as she edged closer. He didn't make even the slightest move.

Zelda reached out, touched his face…

…and they connected.

Their bodies melted away and their souls soared, entwining, uniting, becoming one. Exhilaration flowed through them and they pulsed with love. Zelda was Link, and Link was Zelda. Suddenly, she knew him, all his memories, his actions, his experiences. The intimacy overwhelmed her. She saw a glow at the centre of his being, a luminous light that was tethering him to the world. All his thoughts revolved around it. She did not have to look closely to know it was her.

They wrapped themselves around each other, prodding with emotions where words would never go. Zelda soothed his spirit, caressing it with affection. She searched for cracks in his soul, smoothing them over tenderly. A grateful smile curled around her.

In turn, he responded by filling her with the rock solid certainty that there was no one but her for him, that he would never leave her. He pushed it into her mind, an insistent, heartfelt arrow. The force of his sincerity almost knocked her back into the real world.

They floated on a wave of pure contentment, not knowing or even caring about the passage of time. Sighing, caressing, calming.

Happy.

Unfamiliar names and places spun around her. 

Termina. Romani. Anju. Kafei. Fierce Deity. Majora.

Her eyes caught on a dark blur that spread tendrils of malignancy through him. She snatched at the memory. It dodged her, hiding here just as Link had tried to hide it from her in the real world. Finally, she grasped it, and it flooded her mind with images.

Zelda recoiled from the vision. Horror engulfed her.

Link chained to a wall, darkness smothering him, a rhythmic thud in the distance. Chalance Vance's cold, lying voice.

She kept herself from feeling fiery hate. She bottled down on her cold fury. She knew…she realised…that any hint of negativity would shatter the fragile thread that tied him to life.

Zelda saw three spinning spheres of light in front of her disembodied eyes. One of them shone like a piercing star, and she knew it to be Link's true heart. She saw his face from within, smiling up at her.

The second was dark blue and she saw that it was all the times he had kept himself from feeling anger, hate and despair. A frowning Link was enclosed inside.

The other sphere…it was flickering, dirty and black. It was something that had been released from the depths of his soul as a result of Vance's torture. It was his darkest thoughts given form.

She realised what she had to do. Link was out of balance, broken. He had never learnt to control his baser instincts, he had only suppressed them. She had to bring his two sides together and then pull him back to life. She hoped that would make the black, shadowy sphere disappear. Then, it would be up to Link himself to learn how to tame his lower impulses and become truly whole, truly human. A true Hero.

Zelda reformed herself into her human form, disengaging from Link. Immediately she felt a gaping hole of emptiness, the dizzying sense that she had just lost something enormously important. The hollowness almost drowned her, but she clung on, desperate. She had to help Link, she _had_ to.

She grasped the blue sphere in one hand and the shining sphere in her other. Slowly, she pulled them towards her. They crackled as they drew close to one another.

"Always remember I love you," she whispered.

She kissed the shining one softly.

Zelda jerked back as the black sphere exploded into the form of the Shadow Link.

"**Don't do this, pretty princess.**"

"You're not Link," she said, staring at him with defiance. "You're an aberration."

He hissed. "**You think you're so clever. How do you know I'm not the real deal, while the Link you knew for all those summers was nothing more than an illusion**."

She closed her hands together, meaning to unite the two spheres. "An illusion is all _you'll_ ever be."

With a roar, he lunged for her, knocking the shining sphere out of her hand. She winced as he kicked her in the stomach.

Their eyes both locked on the fallen ball. They moved at the same time. 

Zelda stretched her fingers, desperation gnawing at her. The sphere slipped from both their grasps.

She turned to the Shadow, pinning him with a hot, angry glare. 

He smiled in response, humourless, dark and twisted. 

Zelda swung with a wild punch, but he ducked, stunning her with a quick kick. She fell to the ground, black spots dancing in her eyes. Blinking, she cursed inwardly. She was still thinking as though she was in the real world, as though the things that would affect her there could harm her here.

He took three large strides until he reached the fallen globe. He lifted his foot above it –

- and Zelda flew, bending reality in this netherworld. She crashed into him and he fell, his mouth wide open in shock.

Quickly, she scooped up the shining sphere and pushed it into the blue one.

There was a blinding flash. The landscape stretched, as though it was being sucked into a tiny hole. 

Zelda found herself on a hill, the sweet scent of flowers lifting her spirits as she heard the birds sing happily in the distance. She was not surprised to hear the birds sing her lullaby. She looked up and her breath left her.

Standing before her, tall, proud and handsome was Link.

Her mouth split into a wide smile and her heart blossomed with joy. It had worked! She had done it! She ran towards him as he waited with expectation.

"Thank you," he said as she reached him, his voice deep. He sounded more sure of himself and his posture displayed his new confidence.

She needed to pull him back, needed to restore him to his body. She hoped that fixing his soul would fix his body too. The powers of the Sages – the powers of the mind and a pure heart were immense. "Let's go back, Link," she said, feeling giddy with happiness. "Let's go home."

He smiled at her.

And then started to fade.

"Link…? No!"

The smile stayed in place as his body grew fainter and became more transparent.

Shock rippled through her. "Don't leave me!" she cried. "I came to rescue you!"

"You did, Zelda," he said, his voice soft. "You saved me again."

This could not be happening! Not like this, not when she had gotten so close! _She couldn't lose him now!_

"Don't leave me!"

But he withered away like smoke caught by a breeze, five last words hanging in the air.

"I love you too, Zelda."

                                                                                                                   *

Zelda opened her eyes, the cold chill of reality hugging her. Darkness surrounded her. Despair welled up inside, prodding, teasing, eating. A malicious, throaty chuckle echoed in her ears.

She looked up.

Link's corpse was gone, but the spot was not empty, oh no. The Shadow looked back at her, his grin a mockery of Link's smile.

Her body shaking, she wept bitter tears. She had failed. He had not come back with her. 

The words cut her more than any sword ever could. _He had not come back!_

"**Don't cry now**." The Shadow took a step closer, licking his lips. "**Looks like its you and me, pretty princess**."

Zelda slid to the floor, no longer caring. She felt the heat of his presence, his breath on her face. He started stroking her cheek.

"**Let yourself go**," he said, his voice thick and low. "**After all I look just like him**."

She glanced up at him. The face did look like Link. But it was not his appearance that Zelda had cared about. There was no light in the Shadow's eyes, none of the softness of Link's kindness and innocence that had always painted his face in such an attractive light.

This was not Link.

This was a monster.

She saw a commotion out of the corner of her eye. Her friends appeared at the mouth of the tunnel.

With an angry shove, she broke free from the Shadow's grasp.

The others looked bewildered, not sure at what was going on.

"Run!" she screamed at them.

"**You shouldn't have done that, pretty princess**," the Shadow growled. "**You should have made it easy for yourself. We could have had _such _a good time**."

Zelda glared at him.

"If you want me," she snarled. "Come and get me!"


	31. A New Hero

Chapter 30

"Go! Go! _Go!_"

Zelda pushed her companions up the path with frantic shoves as the Shadow cackled with glee behind them, swinging his sword from one side of the tunnel to the other, the glow of sparks illuminating his dark robes. The others threw panicked, confused glances towards her, but she had no time to explain. She didn't even know what to say even if she did.

"Move!" she barked. They were in shock; not quite understanding why they had to flee from someone they thought was their friend. The frowns of bafflement only served to make the creature chasing them laugh harder until it seemed he would be out of breath. Zelda realised that the Shadow was just toying with them, that he could catch up to them at any moment he chose.

"**Don't go!"** he teased. **"Don't leave me!"** His voice took on a high pitch, mocking the words Zelda had said to Link in his mind. The Shadow's ridicule fuelled her anger further, making it bubble within, a volcano waiting to erupt.

She risked throwing a glance over her shoulder. Crimson eyes framed by a hard, cruel face stared back at her, pure delight shining within them. He was enjoying himself, this creature that had waited so long to emerge and taste life. This creature that had taken away her Link, like a dying candle being snuffed out.

Zelda looked away as his tongue flicked out in a lecherous grin.

They ran, going further up, slipping and sliding, their fear driving them on like a harsh driver whipping at horses. Tessa slipped once or twice, her face almost torn apart with dread, her eyes and nose red. Zelda did not stop; she only slowed to scoop the farm girl back up onto her feet every time she fell.

"What's going on, Your Highness?" Fran screamed. Some part of her was mildly touched that he still he addressed her so formally even under such circumstances. "What _is_ that thing?"

"And why does it look like Link?" Tessa moaned, her voice thick with grief.

"It isn't Link!" Zelda hissed between clenched teeth. "Don't _ever_ think of it as him!"

"Then why does it look so alike to the Hero?" Chizan's voice, sounding strained at the edges, but still mustering up more calm then any of them could. "And where _is_ Link?"

"I don't know!" she spat, snarling as her tunic caught on a sharp rock.

The Prince spun to a halt, making the others skid. "Then what _do _you know?"

Zelda glared at him, realising that the tension was getting to all of them. She didn't care.

"All I know is the Link is _dead_ and that thing virtually killed him."

The words echoed in the air for a moment as shock washed over them. Tessa began to weep softly.

Zelda could hear the Shadow in the distance, the clang of his swinging blade amplified to such a degree that it sounded like a horrific creature from the Pit.

"We have to hurry!" she said. "We must go!"

Chizan stood his ground, eyeing her with serene detachment. "What good will that do?" he said, his voice low. "Let us stand and fight. Honour our fallen friend."

Zelda held his gaze and she saw the serious determination burning therein. Cold realisation ran in her veins. He was right. They could run and run, but this _thing_ would always hound them. And Link deserved a better send off than her cowering away from his murderer. Although it was the Wraith that had struck with the sword, she was certain that it was the Shadow that had ultimately killed him. And now she was going to let him get away with it, running in childish fear. Shame pinched her cheeks.

Chitz the Imp sprang up from Tessa's back. "Whoa, whoa…haha," he said. "I'm with the Queen. Haha. Let's run."

Zelda ignored him, a movement from Zayna catching her eye. The Key had her sword drawn and ready, her face tight and hollow. They exchanged glances. No words needed to be said and Zayna just gave her a tiny nod.

"Get me a sword," Zelda said, turning to the mouth of the tunnel where they expected the Shadow to appear. She had left her own blade pinned to the roof of the tunnel where she had fought the Wraiths.

The chest plate on Chizan's dull grey armour opened with a sudden clank. A short sword appeared, and he handed it over to the Queen.

Zelda cocked an eyebrow as she tested the weight of the weapon in her hand. "What else do you have hidden in there?"

He responded only by his mouth curling in a slight smirk.

Hissing with exasperation, Zelda rolled her eyes. She almost flung the sword straight back at him. Of all the times the Prince could have chosen to let his mask of nobility slip, he had to choose now. She did not think that she would ever understand men.

The Shadow slid into the tunnel, his eyes drunk with insanity, his sword swinging in a lazy arc. **"Oh ho ho. What have we _here?_"** Zelda hated the sound of his voice. It was thick and murky like tar. He sounded nothing like her Link. **"Have you decided to stand and fight, pretty princess?"** His deep scarlet eyes took them all in. **"You three gals just wait a moment. As soon as I've dealt with the hunter and the Freelander, we can have some fun."**

"Demon," Zayna spat. "The only thing you'll have is my sword thrust down your throat."

The Shadow's mouth curled. **"Promises, promises."**

Zelda braced herself, her vision funnelling into a sharp target point, at the centre of which was the Shadow's face. "Keep together," she said calmly. "Tessa, stay behind us."

"No." The voice was quiet and trembling.

Zelda turned to her and was struck by the ferocious look on the farm girl's face. "Tessa?"

"He killed Link," she said in a harsh whisper. "So I'm going to kill _him_."

Tessa lunged forward before Zelda could stop her. "No! Wait!"

"Tessa!" Fran screamed, his bow slipping from his fingers.

The girl launched herself at the Shadow's face with a snarl, her fingers curled into talons. She managed to tear a thin line of blood down his cheek before he caught her by the wrist with one hand. He pressed her hard against his body, pushing his face into her hair and breathing deeply.

**"So very sweet."** His voice made Zelda's blood run with disgust.

With a roar of pure rage, Fran ran forward, his fists flying. The Shadow's sword was up in an instant cutting through the hunter's shoulder. Fran cried out and Tessa shrieked. He fell away to one side, blood pouring down his injured limb, Tessa's wide eyes following him down.

Zelda's head swam. Everything was moving in a blur. Her eyes were hot and her ears rang with the Shadow's laughter. She moved ahead, Chizan and Zayna by her side. She saw a flicker of movement, saw Tyron raise his arms, ready to utter something, a spell, a curse, she didn't know. The Shadow dropped his sword, reached back and flung his razor sharp boomerang. It sliced straight through Tyron's left wrist and he collapsed with a howl of pain.

Too fast. Too fast. Everything was moving too fast.

The Shadow swiftly scooped up his sword, parrying Zayna's first strike with such force that she was flung into the wall. Zelda saw her friend buckle with pain as all the breath left her like a rapidly deflating balloon. The Shadow cackled, intoxicated with maniacal energy. With his second swipe he struck Chizan and the Prince was sent flying back against the far wall in a drizzle of sparks, where he crumpled to the ground.

Link's dark mannequin took a few steps towards Zelda, dragging a weeping Tessa by her hair. **"Guess it's just us three,"** he drawled. **"I can still think of lots of things we can do."**

"You're sick," she bit back. "A pathetic, worthless creature."

**"Well, ex-_cuuuse_ me, pretty princess,"** he said. **"I'm the dark whirlpool that sits at the centre of every person's soul. I'm the whisperer that beckons to you when no one else is around or tells you to hurt when someone hurts you or tells you to take the quick fix, the easy way to satisfaction. I "**

"-talk too much!" Chitz the Imp burst out from Tessa's travel pack, flying into the Shadow's face. The dark warrior was so stunned that he let go of the farm girl as Chitz pounded away at his face.

Zelda swung her sword, ready. "Tessa! Run!"

She did not need to be told twice. As Tessa darted past her, Zelda saw the Shadow make a grab for Chitz. Clinging onto his hair, Chitz swung his little legs up and then smashed them into the Shadow's face. The dark one roared in fury, finally sinking his fingers into the Imp's skin and flinging him away.

Zelda moved forward as the Shadow retrieved his sword. They locked gazes, and she saw pure hate glinting in his eyes.

The Shadow raised his blade. He paused as he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the blade. **"Ooooh,"** he said with a playful hiss, turning his head from side to side as he admired himself**. "How can you _possibly_ resist this face?"** The words pricked something at the back of Zelda's mind. For years, she had wondered why Link had never been as egotistical as all the other handsome noblemen she had met in her life. Now she realised, saw that he had kept his ego well buried.

**"I'm just like him, you know,"** he said, swaggering. **"Just like Link in _every_ way."**

The wink that followed ignited something in her and she swung her sword with a bellow. Their weapons clashed, illuminating the tunnel with hot, fiery sparks. They held their ground, their swords crossed, their arms and legs trembling with effort as they each tried to gain an advantage. Her narrowed eyes sparkled and her eyebrows arched downwards like two arrows as her face contorted with rage, pain and exertion.

**"Pretty princess,"** he croaked between breaths. **"You look so beautiful."**

He leaned closer and closer until their faces almost met. She saw the intention in his eyes and she flinched in revulsion. The hesitation was all he needed to jerk his sword to the side and make Zelda's blade fly. Zelda rolled with the blow, her now empty fingers curling into a fist, her arm swinging.

The punch connected. He reeled.

"You," she spat.

She kicked him in the face and he stumbled back. She was fury given form now. There was no need to think, just act. Adrenaline and anger mixed to concoct a potent energy that flowed through her.

"Are."

Another punch. He dropped his sword. She kept herself from laughing in satisfaction.

"_Not._"

Yet another blow and he fell to the ground.

"Link!"

She stood over him, breathing frantically. Her shadow fell over him, darkening his already murky features.

He moved. A sudden sweep of the leg and she was crashing back into the ground, needle like pains shooting through her. In an instant he was on top of her, his weight crushing. His hot breath burned down on her. He pinned down her wrists, twisting them so much that she wanted to cry out in pain.

But she would not give him the satisfaction.

**"This is where I get my reward,"** he sneered, his leering face looming in her eyes. She stopped herself from whimpering as he leaned forward. His tongue split from his lips and it caressed her cheek in one long stroke. She felt like she would be sick. She wished bitterly that she had another weapon, a dagger, small knife, anything. Not because she wanted to fight back, but because she wanted to slay herself before the creature could do what he was obviously going to.

Zelda closed her eyes as his lips moved towards hers. She let her mind go, to escape from the fear and pain. Loneliness came to her with an icy touch. She felt small, lost, weak. Hot tears pooled under her eyelids. The world began spinning, spinning, spinning until it collapsed in on itself.

She wished that she had never been born.

There was a yell and the weight was gone. Zelda opened her eyes with a start.

The Shadow was crawling someway ahead of her, groaning while he clutched his head. With a growl, he launched to his feet and fled.

Zelda heard the metallic slice of a weapon returning to its scabbard.

She looked up into the eyes of her saviour.

Had anyone turned their gaze towards the Freelander mines at that instant they would have seen a curious sight. The day was not yet done, the late afternoon sun blurring the sky with a creamy orange haze. That in itself was not unusual. What was strange were the crackling balls of lightening that hovered around the mountains the mines were built into. They hissed and spluttered, spreading light that illuminated the Morose Mountains framed in the distance. They remained like that for quite a while.

Had anyone been there, they would have found the atmosphere strange. The air was heavy, as if pregnant with expectation, waiting for something momentous to occur. The tangy smell of brine hung there, coating everything. A sharp, cool wind blew, disturbing rocks and uprooting plants. Forks of energy split the sky.

Wise ones who knew of the battle within would have attributed the strange phenomena to the appearance of the Shadow, his presence an unnatural blot on the world.

Those wise ones would have been right.

And they would also have been completely wrong.

The balls of lightening congealed in a flash of furious light.

And then there was nothing.

Except…

"Chizan!"

Zelda's heart leapt in joy as he tugged her to her feet and then enveloped her in his arms. She trembled, her body releasing relieved sobs that she could not hold down. She let herself be swallowed in his arms, his scent comforting her, his very presence a balm.

He stroked her hair, muttering soothing words. "Did he hurt you?" he asked, his voice sombre.

"No," she breathed. "You came just in time."

They grinned at each other, the tension evaporating from their faces.

A rumble shook the mines, and they looked up.

"Sounded like that came from outside," Zelda said quietly.

"Like thunder," Chizan answered, frowning.

Zelda jumped as a sharp, cackle echoed around the cavern.

"I do not know how," the Prince said through pursed lips. "But I think he is getting stronger."

"Then let's gather the others and leave."

He nodded moving off to tend to Fran and Zayna's injuries. Zelda found Tyron in a heap, weeping in one corner, one arm ending in an ugly, bloody stump. She gasped, her hand going straight to her mouth.

He looked up at her. "It's nothing, dear," he croaked. "Just a scratch."

"Nonsense!" she barked, her disbelief clear. "This isn't time to play brave, Tyron."

Zelda tore a strip of cloth from her tunic and wrapped it over his injury. He looked up at him, his eyes grateful but tight with pain. She gave him a small smile in return.

"You'll be fine," she said in a soft voice. "This should stop the bleeding." She frowned, her heart lurching with sympathy. "I wish I could do something about the pain."

He waved her away. "I can handle that."

From the tightness in his neck, she saw his words to be a lie, but she sighed, stroking his head. "I'm sorry I dragged you into all this."

His eyes widened, fixing her with an intense stare. "There's nowhere else I would rather be. I made a promise long ago."

She blinked. "A promise to…?"

"We are ready," Chizan interrupted. Zelda saw Fran's shoulder bandaged. Zayna only seemed to have a few bruises. Tessa was unharmed, though the look on her face as she clung to her father was heartbreaking. "We must hurry."

Zelda nodded, momentarily forgetting her question. She helped Tyron to his feet, and the group shuffled onwards, Chitz scampering behind them.

She looked up as another rumble echoed from outside. She heard the patter of raindrops, slow at first and then rhythmically speeding up.

"The water is seeping in," she said, glancing over at the Prince.

He nodded in response, dragging the two injured men with him. Zelda studied his face as they marched onwards and upwards. He was certainly handsome, his golden skin exotic and his glowing purple eyes mysterious. She was old enough and wise enough to know though that there was more to a person than looks. Her mind flicked back to the Shadow. Much more, she thought.

Still. She could still feel the ocean of gratitude in her soul for what he had done for her just now. Not only had the weight of the Shadow been flung from her body, but it had released her heart too. Zelda genuinely believed she would have come to her end, her life destroyed by a creature wearing her true love's face.

She edged over to the Prince. There was a haunted look in his eyes, like he had found himself in a place and situation he was not equipped to handle.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

He looked up, confused. "Sorry?"

"Yes," she answered. "For all the times I might have offended you, Your Highness."

He glanced away, pondering. She wondered if her apology was enough, and she added a smile to try and reinforce.

"It is I who should apologise."

"Why?" Zelda was taken by surprise by his words.

"For trying to insert myself in your life when you clearly didn't want me there."

Their eyes met for a moment and they smiled, genuine warmth spreading between them.

"For what it's worth," she added. "I'm glad you're here."

"Let's stop here and rest." It was Fran's voice. She swallowed, noticing how pale the hunter's skin was. He was pointing at a small cave that had been dug into the tunnel wall. Zelda tried to peer in, wanting to see how safe it was, but there was little light. The mouth of the cave was dark, but inviting. She shuddered, regardless. She was sick of darkness.

"I don't think that's wise," Chizan said firmly. "We should keep moving."

"Easy for _you_ to say," Fran snapped. Zelda bit her lip, knowing that the stress was breaking them. "You're not the one who had to take a sword in the shoulder."

"That was your own fault," the Prince answered hotly. "You should not have rushed ahead so foolishly."

"What!" Fran pushed away from the Prince's arm. "Are you mad? Did you expect me to just stand there while that _thing_ had my daughter?"

Chizan glared back at him. "If you had waited, we could have attacked together and defeated him. You should not have let your emotions get the better of you."

They were all standing still now, watching the contest between the two men who struck at each other with raised voices.

"Well, forgive me for caring, Your Highness," Fran spat. "I pity Freelander children."

The Prince folded his arms across his chest. Zelda felt as though she was a spectator in a fencing match. Tyron and the Key watched in amused silence. She heard the Imp mutter 'Go, boss, go!'

"Freelander children," Chizan growled. "Would have eaten that creature alive."

Fran fixed him with a hot stare. "I didn't see _you_ have much luck with that thing, laddie." The hunter seemed to have grown in stature over the past few seconds. "You got lucky when it was distracted."

"Please." Tessa's soft voice made them both turn. "Let my Papa rest."

"I think we should," Zelda said in a placating voice. Seeing the look in the Prince's eyes she added, "For a little while."

Chizan turned to Fran. "Is this how you get things done, hunter?" he said. "By having your baby whine about it?"

Fran's face creased and his mouth opened, but Zelda cut him off. "Enough," she said, stilling them with the commanding regal voice she had learnt when she was a child. She let her eyes turn to each of them, before continuing, "We shall rest. Our wounds need soothing. If not in our bodies, then in our hearts."

The Prince scowled. "I still do not think that this is a wise idea."

But no one was listening anymore.

They sat in the cave, watching the cool water drip from the ceiling. Zelda sat next to Zayna and Tessa, the farm girl resting on her shoulder. Tyron sat at the mouth of the cavern, peering out and nursing his bandaged arm. He had placed himself far away from the rest of them, as if he did not want to share in any conversation. Fran and the Prince sat facing one another, close in proximity, but distant in all else. Chitz slept on the floor. Zelda envied the ease at which he could just drift away and not be plagued by worries. There was surprisingly a lot of room in the alcove and Zelda wondered why exactly it had been built. It did not seem to lead anywhere.

"I'm scared." Tessa's voice was tiny and the chill in it reflected the mood that they all felt, that they all could taste in the air.

Zelda closed her eyes to try and escape from the numbing pain. Now she wondered if it really had not been a mistake to stop and rest. Now that she wasn't worried about her survival, she could think on other things. And only one matter came to her mind.

Link was gone forever.

Just considering it made her shiver. How could she go on now? How could she continue? She had thought that her love itself would have been enough to bring him back. She cursed herself.

How childish. How immature.

Death was death no matter how much a person may dearly wish otherwise.

"Sing us a song, Tessa," Fran asked with a tight voice. Zelda blinked up at him and he smiled in response. She chastised herself inwardly. Other people needed much more comfort than she did. Tessa was not used to danger or death, she needed her friends now.

Chizan bristled. "The creature might hear."

The hunter sighed. "Do you really believe that, laddie?" he said, all respect gone from his voice. Zelda guessed that insulting his daughter had made Fran see the Prince in an altogether different light. "Or are you just trying to spite me?"

The Prince was about to answer, when Tessa interrupted. "I'll sing softly."

"Go ahead." It was Zayna's voice, eager to defuse the tension. The last thing they needed was to be at each other's throats.

Zelda flashed her former Advisor a grateful smile, surprised that Zayna would even be interested in such a thing. The Key gave a small shrug in return coupled with a lop-sided smile.

Tessa's gentle, feathery voice sung a tune about summer, fresh food, merrymaking and love. It floated in the air and eased into Zelda's heart, making her close her eyes and sigh. The girl sounded so much like Malon it was uncanny.

"That was beautiful, darling," Fran said with a grin.

"Yes," Zayna said, struggling to find words. "It was nice."

Zelda tried to stop herself from giggling. The Key obviously was not impressed with songs by a ditzy farm girl.

"It was lovely," Zelda said, holding Tessa's hand. She looked down at her eyes, hoping, praying that this young woman would make it through to the end of their quest and be able to live a long, happy life. She wished it for her and for all her people.

The girl grinned. "Really, Your Highness?"

"Yes," she answered, her voice sincere. "It reminded me of a good friend of mine."

They waited in silence.

Water continued to drop.

Fran tapped his fingers on his knee.

Zayna started to whistle.

"Yes, yes, it was good," Chizan said finally, throwing up his arms in disgust.

Zelda laughed and the Prince threw her a look that made her laugh harder.

"Well," said Fran, a satisfied expression on his face. "It may have reminded Her Highness of her friend, but it reminded me of food!" He grinned. "What do we have?"

"Oh, Papa," Tessa teased. "You're always thinking of food!"

He winked. "I'm a hunter, it's my job."

Zelda sighed, glad that their conversations were stopping them from brooding. She spied Chizan as he reached for his belt. He pulled out some hard, crumbling cheese.

"Here," he said, handing it over to Fran.

The hunter paused, as if cautious. For an instant he looked like he was on the trail, and that the cheese was his target boar.

"You had that in your belt?" he asked, his mouth curling. "Is it safe?"

Chizan's eyes narrowed. "Do you want it or not?"

"Thank you," Fran said taking it gingerly. He waved it to the others, who all shook their heads before biting in.

Zelda felt a tug of pity for the Freelander. Here he was with people who were as unfamiliar to his culture as they he was to theirs and yet, he was trying. In his old little way, he was trying. And he had risked his life for them many times. The thought made her heart warm.

"Chizan," she said, eager to bring him into their circle. He looked up at the sound of her voice. "What's our next move?"

He was thoughtful for a moment. "The creature is down there, covering all our exits," he said. "Our only route is up." He pointed in the direction. "We must pray that there is a way out there, so we can climb down outside."

There was silence again, the uneasy tension nagging at each one of them. What if there was no way out? What if the thing got to them first? Something rumbled outside.

"Someone needs to distract it," said Zayna finally. "Someone needs to hold it off so that the rest can escape."

No one spoke for a pair of heartbeats.

"I am puzzled," the Prince said with a frown. He flicked his fingers against his silver armour, the metallic ring the only sound apart from Fran's munching.

"Oh?" Zayna asked.

Chizan turned to Zelda. "Where is Link's body? And _why_ does that creature look like him?"

She held his penetrating gaze, feeling uncomfortable. For a moment, she felt as though she were a hesitant child once more, all eyes on her expectantly as she practised one of her first royal duties. The others waited for her to speak. "I told you," she said, tiring of even thinking about it. "He's dead."

Zelda swallowed, trying to wash away the bitter, hollow taste of the words. But they remained, a prison of cold lead penning in her heart.

"But…"

Zelda made an exasperated noise. "The thing killed him and took his body." Tears shot to her eyes as vivid memories flooded her mind. "I _tried_ to save him, but I failed." She was trembling now and she felt her face curl in a snarl. Link's last words came back to her and she hit the ground, making the others jump. "Do you _hear_ me? I _failed!_ Failed completely."

Her head dropped and she wept. "I wanted to save him," she sobbed in whispers. "But he wouldn't come back." She swallowed big, gulping breaths and drops of salty tears fell to the dust. "Why didn't he come back?"

She felt shame wash through her. She should not have broken down like this. A hand gripped her arm firmly. Zelda looked up to see Zayna, pity, pain and confusion on her face.

"Your Highness," she said. "I'm sure you did all you could."

"We need Link," Tessa said, her mournful tone cracking Zelda's heart. She hardened it, not wanting to cry any more.

"No." It was Tyron, finally joining the conversation. He walked towards them with slow steps, his face wearing a grave expression, his eyes hard, but shining. Zelda saw that his bandage was dark and encrusted with blood. They needed to cauterise the wound. She saw flecks of green sprinkled on his tunic, and knew that he had stemmed the flow of blood using some type of herb.

"We need a new Hero." His voice echoed through the cave. Another rumble. "One with proven Heroic Deeds."

All turned to Prince Chizan.

His eyes widened. "Me?"

Tyron nodded.

"I am not worthy," he said, swallowing. His eyes drifted around the dingy cave, taking in all of their expectant looks. Finally, he stopped at Fran who looked back with a small smile. "Even you, hunter? You think I should take this burden?"

"For all your faults, Your Highness," he answered as his smile grew wider. "There is no one else who could accomplish this task." He studied the Prince for a moment. "You beat him before."

"A fluke, you said," Chizan answered bitterly.

Fran ignored the words. "You can beat him again." There was something insistent there, a hopeful entreaty.

Zelda stood, her heart heavy. Despite Fran's words she knew she probably would not see the Prince again. A bitter twinge reminded her of how unfair everything was. To lose Link and now to lose Chizan.

"Give me your hand, Freelander." Her voice returned to its regal tone, but it was soft and quiet.

He knelt before her and looked up expectantly. She took his hand, marvelling at its smoothness.

"Pledge yourself to me, Hero," she said.

They waited, all eyes turned to the Queen and the Prince at the centre. Chizan fidgeted, not liking to be the focus of attention.

"I vow to serve you and your people," he said. "You are my Queen."

Zelda's heart surged as she looked down on him. "And you are my Knight."

He stood, standing proud as he drew his sword.

"And I am the Hero of Hyrule," he said.

There was a blinding flash that came from outside and a long, thunderous rumble.

The Shadow strolled up the winding path, chuckling to himself. Zelda had been so close to him he could almost have tasted her. In fact, he mused after a moment's reflection, he _did_ taste her. And she tasted sweet. Addictive sweet. Something warm stirred deep in his guts as he thought about her. He just _had_ to have her. The other two would be dessert. And then he could listen to their wonderful screams as he tore them apart limb from limb.

He heard the low rumble from beyond the mines. It just seemed to make him laugh harder.

**"Ooh,"** he tittered. **"There be a storm tonight!"**

"Shame you won't live to see it, Demon."

The Shadow spun around to come face to face with the Freelander.

**"You?"** he spat. **"What do you want?"** He raised his chin mockingly. **"You want a piece of this? You've been dying to hit Link for an eternity. Well, _I'm_ Link now, so here's your chance."**

"And _I_ am Hyrule's new Hero," the Prince replied, shifting the sword in his hands.

This was too much! The Shadow bent over double in laughter. **"You!"** he choked out between breaths. **"She made _you_ the new Hero? I think the Imp would have made a greater challenge."**

Chizan's eyes narrowed and he swung in for the attack.

The Shadow parried it easily and spun away. **"Is that it, Freelander?"** he taunted. **"Is that your best shot?"**

The Prince replied with his blade, an arc aimed for the Shadow's head. He ducked it easily and punched his nemesis in the gut, following it up with a kick to the face that brought Chizan to his knees.

**"Pathetic,"** the Shadow mocked. The taste of victory made him feel inebriated, and knowing that blood was about to be spilt just made him feel more giddy. **"I thought Freelanders were meant to be the best."** He paused as if he was pondering. **"But then again, I did beat your people on my own. You just don't have the edge that I do."**

"Your only weapon is your mouth," the Prince replied, flinging his sword up in a sudden attack.

The Shadow caught the blow, and tried to shove the Freelander back down. But Chizan kept coming. With trembling legs and a clenched jaw, he pushed himself back upright. The Shadow growled, his mouth twisted in anger and strain.

"You…will…not…win," the Prince snarled.

The Shadow knocked Chizan's legs out from under him with a sweep. A quick punch later and the Prince's sword went flying.

**"Oh, I'm _so_ good,"** the dark warrior said with a grin. He let his sword clatter and looked over the Prince for a long moment. The Shadow cracked his knuckles. **"I've been waiting for this for a long time."**

The first blow snapped Chizan's head sideways, a tooth flying in a spray of blood. The second punch opened a cut over his eye. A third punch, a fourth, a fifth. The Prince slumped to the ground, unconscious. But the Shadow did not stop. Straddling the Prince and laughing wildly, he knocked the Freelander's head this way and that until it hung limply. Angry bruises swelled up, and Chizan's golden skin was split red and purple.

The loudest rumble yet echoed around the mines. Another flash penetrated the rocks.

Panting, the Shadow finally stopped, his fist dripping with blood. He chuckled to himself again as he looked down at the Prince. Within moments, he was laughing so hard that he had to lean against the Freelander's body for support.

**"Hero,"** he spat when he finally got to his feet. **"You lose again, Prince of Fools. And…Zelda is going to be mine once more. Whether she wants to or not." **Another fit of laughter overcame him, as if he had just spoken the most wittiest words in the world.

Something chopped the air behind him.

_Whup. Whup. Whup. Whup._

He turned around slowly.

Another chop. The sound of a sharp weapon being twirled.

A figure stood in the shadows. He caught a glimpse of silver hair.

The Shadow wanted to laugh again. They had sent Tyron after him? What use was a one-handed wizard against him? Zelda must be getting very desperate.

A flash of platinum armour caught his eye.

The Shadow frowned, puzzled. He raised his sword.

**"Who's there?"** he said. **"Another of you worthless Heroes?"**

"A _new_ Hero," the other replied, his voice soft, calm and confident.

The Shadow licked his lips. **"Oh really? Are you so Heroic that you won't show yourself?"**

The figure stepped into the light, revealing silvery-blonde hair framing a tattooed face. The Shadow knew him, but took a step back. This wasn't right. His skin was still tanned and not pale like in his memory. His eyes were not shining. In fact, his eyes were large and a piercing, perfect blue – pure, pure humanity swimming therein. But most of all, this could not be right because this wasn't Termina and he did not have the Mask!

Oni-Link grinned as the Shadow's face melted in shock.

"Time to feel the _pain._"


	32. Merging

Chapter 31

Link's curved, double-bladed sword sliced through the air and crashed into the Shadow's weapon hurtling him across the cavern, screaming. The Oni Warrior leapt into the air, somersaulted and then landed on the lowermost floor in a crouch. The Shadow smashed into the far wall violently, as Link slowly walked past the Eye to the Ages, twirling his blade in an emerald blur.

The Shadow shook his head and looked up. **"Hey, hey, _hey,_"** he gasped, wagging his finger. **"You're getting angry, Hero Boy! Getting angry isn't good!"**

Link pondered over his words. A lifetime ago he would have agreed, a lifetime ago he would have struggled and fought with himself to push his fury down, even when it was fully justified. But that was when he was Link, the Hero of Time. Now, he was Link, the Oni Warrior, the Fierce Hero. Zelda had done something, knitted his shattered self back together which, in turn, had repaired his body and expelled the Shadow like the disease that he was.

Somehow he had awoken outside the mines, something transporting his body away from the Shadow. He guessed that there was something of the divine involved as well and silently sent thanks. But what had surprised him the most was that he hadn't been repaired as his old self, no. Just like his Queen had merged his light side with his suppressed side, his old form had merged with the form he had worn once in Termina, the form of the Fierce Deity, a demonic power that the ignorant had adored as something divine.

He understood the poetry of it. The Fierce Demon was an evil that had to be kept locked away in a mask unless it was needed. And now he himself had become the very personification of that struggle, that clash that he had tried to contain within himself for summers, that fine line between honour and humiliation. He did not have a tenth of the power the mask had, or even the increased size, but he did not need it. His heart was unfettered, no longer weighed down by doubts of what was right and what was wrong. It was all perfectly clear now, like a glittering crystal. His soul shone with a radiance that fuelled his entire body, a twinkling star at the centre of his heart. And he knew that light to be Zelda's love.

"Sometimes it's good to be angry," Link said, his voice smooth. "Sometimes the only right thing to do is _be_ angry."

**"Oh?"** the Shadow answered, scrambling away as Link neared. **"An example if you please!"**

He was buying for time and Link knew it. But he decided to humour the creature anyway.

"If a wrong is committed and anger does not fuel you to correct it, then you are guilty in sharing in the crime," he said, striding towards the demon. There was a pause for a heartbeat. "You touched Zelda," he continued, his eyes narrowed to razor-thin blue lines. His voice was soft, dropping in volume with every passing word. "And that made me very, _very_ angry."

Link swung his sword and the Shadow ducked, the blade striking the rocks with a crackle of energy. The Shadow rolled away and dropped his own weapon. He held up his palms, a pleading look etched on his face.

**"Hey, hey, hey, hey, _hey_!"** the Shadow squeaked in panic. **"Look! Look, I've dropped my sword! It would be dishonourable for you to strike me down now!"**

"Well," said Link, stalking the demon as he tried to scuttle away. "The way I see it." He hefted his blade onto his shoulder, ready for another strike. "It would be dishonourable to let you _live_."

The air tore as another attack swooped down, but once again the Shadow rolled to safety. Link wasn't phased. He just walked on; his pace leisurely as if time no longer concerned him

**"That's a big sword you have there,"** the Shadow called, taking a few steps back. His red eyes were wide with a mixture of fear and anger. **"And you know what they say about men with big swords don't you?"**

Link cocked an eyebrow. "They never lose?"

The Shadow nodded, then froze open-mouthed as Link's words registered. He shook his head frantically. **"No, no, no,"** he said. **"That's not what they say!"**

He held up a finger, swallowing as his eyes sparkled with an idea. **"Wait! Wait! You'll like this one!"** The Shadow cocked his head to one side, his eyes looking away demurely in a parody of a shy maiden. **"Link, I lurve you! Don't leave me! I ~"**

The punch knocked the Shadow clear into the air. He pirouetted from the blow, before falling back to the earth, landing beside his sword. With a growl, he grabbed it and, steeling himself for a moment to match Link's strength, dark energy surging within him. Nostrils flaring, he launched himself for an attack.

The Shadow chopped the air with a swing. Link ducked, the heat of the blade touching his cheek and, with a single twirl of his sparkling green blade, swooped up to parry. Green and black sparks flew. The Shadow rolled with the blow, aiming a tight arc at Link's left side. The Hero deflected it, spinning his sword twice. The dark warrior whirled, spinning in a semi circle to bring his weapon down towards Link's right. In a flash, the Hero tossed his blade to his right hand and twirled it up to block the blow.

They moved at a furious speed. Swing, parry, thrust, whirl, duck all rolled into a fluid blur. The battle raged, the sound of their clashing weapons echoing through the cavern. A dance of swords, a ballet of twisting limbs to the beat of pumping blood.

Pure instinct took over. Action. Reaction. Action. Reaction. Shadow feinted left, swung right. Hero curved his back to dodge. Throwing himself forward, Hero thrust his blade at Shadow's head. The dark one jerked left. Spun on his heel. Twisted his sword in a fluid arc that caught faint light in a flash. Hero sidestepped. And again from another chop. Shadow aimed his elbow at Hero's head. Link ducked and sprung up – and _over_ – the Shadow. Landed. Twirled, his glittering jade blade shrieking towards the dark warrior in a deadly slice. Instantly, Shadow dropped, rolled back, kipped up and charged.

The Shadow grew frustrated, roaring in rage as he brought his sword down. Link snapped his blade up instinctively to block. Heated embers rained down, glowing red. The other smashed down onto Link's weapon, once, twice, thrice. Another swing flew down and Link spun on the ball of one foot, dodging it.

Stumbling from the forward momentum, the Shadow snarled as he tried to prevent himself from falling. A flash of green twinkled at the corner of his eye and he ducked as Link's sword split the air above his head.

Another sharp arc from the Shadow, and Link backflipped, revelling in the heat of battle. His movements were swift and easy, his limbs curving smoothly to catch any blow and fluidly counterattack. His silvery hair bounced with every movement, sweat flew and mixed with hot sparks. There were no more misgivings, no more fretting over how to quickly disarm his foe with the least amount of harm. The familiarity of combat flowed in his veins, his warrior spirit reacting with split second movements. He gloried in it; letting his soul drink it in.

A second attack. Link ducked, wanting to laugh. He needed this, craved for it like a hungry man for food. He needed to exorcise this Demon from his life through a sacrifice of blood. Fear still tickled him from the deep, but now he had a firm grasp on it. Death could take him and he would embrace it. He was born to be the Hero and now he had accepted his role in life wholeheartedly. There was no turning back from his fate, no other way but to stare it in the face, grinning.

After becoming an adult so prematurely and then having to return as a child, it had finally happened.

He had finally grown up.

The Hero thrust. The Shadow jumped back

The Shadow spun downwards, Link whirled upwards and their blades locked with a metallic hiss. Crimson eyes reflected off of an emerald blade. An ocean blue gaze stared out from a mirror polished sword.

A tiny spark ignited from the crossed metal. It floated for a moment, glowing between both their faces like a fiery feather before falling onto the Shadow's cheek with a sizzle.

Link chuckled. "I'm _so_ glad you decided to fight back," he said. "I didn't want this to be _too_ easy."

They stood their ground, their wrists and legs trembling with the strain of trying to gain an advantage. The Shadow pushed his blade forward and their weapons shimmered as they shook.

"I thought you hated fighting," the demon spat. "I thought the taking of another's life sickened you."

Link grinned, shifting his weight, making the Shadow falter. "Sometimes," the Hero said through gritted teeth. "You have to take up the sword yourself in order to take the swords out of madmen and children."

The Shadow snorted, scarlet eyes narrowed as he tightened his grip on his hilt. "And _who_ makes _that_ judgement?"

The Hero's smile did not drop. "If your intentions are pure, then the path is always clear."

The dark warrior snarled, baring his teeth. "Quite the philosopher, aren't you? When did you turn all Freelander on us?" The Shadow studied his face for an instant, the glow of his eyes blurring on Link's silvery-grey armour. "Why couldn't you have come back as Deku-Link?" They held their positions as the demon continued to stare intently. Slowly, slowly the Shadow pushed the Hero's sword down and to the side. A drop of sweat rolled down his hand. "At least I got all the looks."

"And I all the brains!" Link thrust his blade up, breaking the deadlock. The Shadow dropped, and lashed out with a low, sweeping kick. The Hero jumped.

The Shadow rolled away, letting himself be swallowed by the dark corners of the cavern.

Link twirled his sword slowly, his contracted eyes scanning for the smallest hint of motion. He waited; realising there was one other thing he needed to do this day. One thing that he had been running away from for far too long. And he needed to do it, even if he fell in battle today.

The Hero closed his eyes and focused.

*

Zelda led her friends up the path puffing up tiny clouds of dust, their steps hurried and urgent. She heard the ferocious clash of metal upon metal from below and it chilled her. Throwing a glance at the hunter, she saw the same worried expression etched on his face that she felt must be on her own too.

"Sounds like the Prince is putting up quite a fight," he murmured softly.

She nodded. "I've sent him to his death," she whispered, a mournful tug to her voice. "What right did I have?"

"Your Highness," Tyron cut in with a firm tone. She turned to him. "Now is not the time for weakness. The Key needs to live, _you_ need to live, the hunter is injured and Tessa and myself," he flicked a smile over at the farm girl, "You know we couldn't."

Zelda sighed, keeping her eyes firmly forward. "How's your…" she chewed on her lip, not sure how to frame the question. Her gaze dropped to Tyron's bandage.

"My injury?"

"Yes," she said, trying to shrug off her discomfort with a smile.

"I'd like to say it's getting better," he said wryly. "But I doubt I could without growing a new hand."

She smiled. "Fran?"

"Aye, Your Highness," the hunter answered with a grin. His healthy arm was curled around his daughter. He held her to him tightly. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

They were reaching the top now and her eyes darted, desperately seeking for an exit. The only thing that stared back at her was cold, hard, jagged rock, the size of which overwhelmed her. It mocked her for clinging on to hope, its dark, ancient face grinning in defiance. There was no way out. She swallowed, not wanting to give in to the whispers of despair. _There was no way out_.

"I could go ahead and scout." It was Zayna, her voice echoing and tinny. Zelda heard the defeat nestling there, and she turned her gaze to her.

"You do that," Zelda said softly with a smile. "There might be something there that we can't see."

Zayna gave a small nod and made to go. "Don't worry, Your Highness. There's always a way." She winked. "At least that's what you always tell me."

"I'll go with you," Fran said, clasping the Key's shoulder. "You shouldn't be alone."

She smiled, and Zelda saw relief ease her face. "Thank you."

Fran turned to Tessa. "Stay here, darling," he whispered, his lips touching her forehead. His gaze flicked to Zelda. "We'll be back in the blink of an eye."

The Queen watched them go; somehow trying to will her hope into something physical that would accompany them. She had to keep herself from shaking her head at her own foolishness. The others did not need to see her weaken in anyway.

_Zelda._

She blinked.

At first she had thought that perhaps Fran had overlooked something and had turned back to ask her.

Slowly, she looked around; saw Tessa biting her lower lip, her eyes brimming with tears as she watched Fran go. Tyron stood gazing at the ground, a pensive expression framed on his face.

Zelda's face creased in puzzlement.

"Did…" She swallowed, not quite sure what she had just experienced. "Did you hear something?"

Tyron looked up at her. "Hear what?"

_Zelda. It's me._

Her mouth fell open in shock and her eyes widened as she recognised the voice floating in her head. Calm and firm, it stunned her and Zelda fell to her knees, the world spinning around her. Impossible. This was impossible. Tyron and Tessa rushed to her side.

"Your Highness! Tyron cried. "What's wrong?"

Fearing that madness had finally taken her, she shook her head, not able to reply. It must have been all the stress. All the things that she had had to endure over the past few months. It had cracked her, and now her sanity was rebelling. And yet…and _yet_…something tugged at her, a feather of hope that she could not ignore. Closing her eyes, she opened her mind. She felt the familiar spark of a connection.

_Link?_

She _felt_ his grin wash over her, cleansing her of all her pain, holding her heart in a fragile grip. Tears sprung to her eyes.

_Link_. She paused; slightly embarrassed that she was responding to what must be a hallucination like this. _How can this be?_

A warm glow enveloped her, making her gasp.

_I came back_, he said in her mind. _I came back for you._

Hot tears rolled down her face, the joy flowing through her body, pure and genuine. Zelda focused it into a funnel and directed it towards him. She felt him respond, felt his gratitude and relief, like a baby uncurling from a long night's rest.

_Where _are_ you, Link?_ She opened her eyes, gazing around, fully expecting an ethereal image of him to come floating into view. She caught sight of Tyron and Tessa's confused faces as they exchanged worried glances. Zelda did not have time to explain to them right now. What could she say anyway? They would not believe it. She did not even know if she believed it herself.

_I'm down here, fighting my Shadow_.

Her legs shaking, Zelda got to her feet. She started taking a few tentative steps backwards. Tyron reached out for her.

"Your Highness!" he said. "Where are you going?"

"Stay here, both of you," she said in a tight voice. "I need to go back."

"No!" Tyron shook his head frantically. "It's not safe."

"You must trust me, Tyron," Zelda replied with her regal voice. "I'll be safe. I _will._"

She turned and ran before they could stop her. Her heart thudded in her chest and her tunic caught on the rough edge of rock once or twice in her haste to see him again. A finger of caution wagged at her, taunted her for holding such foolish hopes.

The doubts melted under a wave of certainty that she knew had come from Link himself.

_Don't worry_, his voice said. _It's me._

_But how?_ she replied as she ran. She dared to throw a glance down towards the cavern floor, but all she saw was the calm shimmer of the Eye of Ages winking back at her. _Rauru said that if I was successful I would not have access to my Sagely powers._

_We connected_. She felt the awe radiating from his soul. _We're a part of each other now_. There was a pause before his last word echoed in her head making her swallow from the weight of it. _Forever._

Her happiness was so great that she could not resist teasing, falling back into her easy familiarity with him. _Still the ever-dramatic one?_

_No._ His answer was accompanied by a surge of sincerity that almost made her stumble. There was something about him that was different, a subtle sense of self-assurance, a sharper edge to his mind that was piercing in its clarity. _I'm being completely serious._

She had to stop herself from shaking her head, realising that the gesture would be silly when there was just her physically present. Her vision contracted and she reached out to steady herself, the shock catching up to her once again.

She sensed his concern.

Zelda? What is it?

Taking in a deep breath, she willed her heart to be calm, forced her protesting mind to accept what was happening.

_Nothing, _she replied. _This is going to take some getting used to, don't you think?_

_No._

_Oh? Why?_ Zelda tickled him with her curiosity, starting to adapt to this new dimension.

Link responded with a cryptic answer.

_I'm used to hearing voices in my head._

*

Link pulled his gaze away from the path, content in the knowledge that she was coming. His Triforce symbol tingling, he stepped into a small cave set into one wall. He could find no sign of the Shadow, his eyes peering from left to right. All was still, and he shifted his weight, a faint chill penetrating his armour. He heard the beating of his own heart, a trembling rhythmic melody.

**"We're brothers, you and I."** The Shadow's voice floated towards him and he stared into the murkiness, trying to find the source. **"After all, we're from the same source. I'm hurt, you expelling me like this. I thought I meant more to you."**

Link waved his sword, his head turning from side to side as he searched. "No," he whispered. "You're everything I kept buried deep inside. I should have learnt to face it, instead of making it hide."

**"Those feelings…those instincts are still a part of you now." **The Hero's eyes flicked up, sensing that that was where the voice was seeping down from. All he could see were the jagged, shadowy outlines of the rock-encrusted ceiling. **"There is no escape, Hero Boy."**

Link struck his sword against one wall; setting off sparks that he hoped would illuminate his vision. "Naturally," he answered. "Anger and fear, the choice between punishing and forgiving. The path between standing and fighting or running away. It is what makes me alive; it is the test of being human. But now I have reined them in, and they serve me when I need them. You are nothing but the result of my ignoring them in the past."

**"Your control may slip."** The Hero jerked his head to the left, perceiving that the voice had now shifted its position.

The Shadow's words caught in his heart. There was truth to them. He was more in harmony with who was than ever before, but he knew it would be a day-to-day struggle to keep himself that way. Realising at last the power that he held as the Hero of Time, he knew that his very actions could have minute effects on the fates of those around him. Before he had shirked his responsibility, letting himself be driven away, letting Cyle's corruption fester over the land when he could have done something about it, instead of sitting in his hut in the desert and waving away requests for aid, both the trivial and the important. Even when he had dragged himself back to action, anxieties over the nature of his actions would have gnawed at him and stayed his hand.

But now there was none of that. He was the Hero and he had to bear it. If it meant having to make unpleasant decisions then so be it.

Something slithered in the gloom above. Link raised his sword. "I relish the challenge."

A dark blur swung down towards him, the Shadow's boots crunching into his chest. Link was sent sprawling, his sword spinning out of his grasp.

He felt Zelda flinch in his mind.

_Link?_

Rolling as the Shadow swung his sword low, Link sent out a wave of comfort to her, not having the time to respond to her in words.

The Hero sprang to his feet and Shadow flung his sword, his grey blade spinning in a ferocious arc. Link threw his body to the side, but it was a fraction too late as the weapon collided into his silver armour; angry sparks illuminating the alcove with fiery light. He kept his balance, slightly groggy though his chestplate had saved him from harm. An ugly, black mark was scorched upon his metal shell, but he had no time to reflect on it as the Shadow came at him again, snapping his head with rapid-fire punches.

They fell to the ground in a hail of disturbed pebbles as each tried to find a hold on the other. On his back as the Shadow sneered down at him, Link threw his legs up and flipped the dark warrior over. The Hero rolled once more, deftly picking up his sword and spinning around to attack.

But the Shadow had gone.

Link stepped out into the cavern again, his eyes cautious and his blade ready. He felt Zelda's presence in his mind, though he knew she had not seen him yet. Perhaps her view was blocked or she was concerned with something else.

Where did it go?

He didn't even have to search her out, knowing where she was instantly. His gaze fell on her, as she crouched on the path beside Prince Chizan's fallen form. His soul sighed deeply, exhilarated at seeing her again. Link had to stop himself from running towards her.

I don't know, Zelda. Did you see it?

Link felt her denial, felt her eyes hunt for his nemesis.

How's the Prince?

He saw her eyes fall to Chizan. She leaned forward, her face creasing, her hands pressing against the Freelander's temple.

_He looks bad._ Her worry floated towards him.

He stepped into her line of sight. Zelda looked up and their gazes locked. She recoiled, her mouth dropping open for the second time, and Link tensed, wondering what was wrong.

_Link! What happened to you? Why do you look so different?_

_Nothing. Don't worry about it_. He stroked her soul with a smile.

She let herself accept it, though he could still sense her confusion. The puzzled look on her face made her look vulnerable, and Link's heart quivered. Still staring at him with wide eyes, she smiled. Link remembered that he had to do this now, do the task that he had really come back for.

*

Zelda knelt by the Prince, his broken face making her reel with shock. She shook her head, the twin images of Chizan's face and Link's altered look making her mind spin. She cursed inwardly, hating herself for making the Prince go up against the Shadow. Touching his face, Zelda felt the cool wetness of blood on her fingers. She sighed, realising that there was nothing she could do for him now.

Tearing her eyes away from the Prince, she gazed around the cavern, hoping to spot the Shadow so that she could tell Link where the creature was. An eerie feeling settled on her heart, the very idea that she could hear him in her mind, could sense his feelings striking her as bizarre. She watched him as he paced around the cavern, feeling his wariness, his focused concentration. It would definitely take a long time for her to adjust. But it was a pleasant type of anticipation, Zelda frantically hoping they could make it through this day so that they both could explore the possibilities further.

She saw the flicker of darkness from the edge of her vision and the Shadow vaulted from his hiding place towards Link's back, his sword swinging with a twinkle of its razor-sharp tip.

_Link!_

The Hero spun, his blade catching the Shadow's attack and then followed through with an uppercut. The Shadow ducked and smashed into Link's face with a flurry of fists. Faltering, the Hero fell back, each blow jerking him from side to side.

Feeling strangely calm, Zelda narrowed her eyes and gripped the short sword the Freelander had given her. Gritting her teeth, she pulled back her arm and threw with a scream.

The sword whirled through the air, hilt over tip, before striking the Shadow on the side of the head. He snarled. Another flicker and he was gone, just like that.

Link's eyes darted around, puzzled at the Shadow's ability to hide himself. Zelda searched too, her eyes tight.

_Be careful_, _Link._

He looked over towards her and their eyes locked again.

_I need you._

She understood. Closing her eyes, she focused on their bond until it was a finely taut line. They linked and their awareness blossomed. She could feel his sword in his hands, its hilt biting into his hands, his blood pumping in his veins. He sensed Chizan by her feet, the tiny granules of sand pressing against her knees, the shortness of her breath. They spread out, feeling the rough curves of the cavern, the tickling presence of their friends high above them. She knew that they could not maintain this for long, knew that it was starting to blur at the edges already.

They swept their gaze around, searching, searching…_there._ Zelda felt Link's grin and his silent thanks as he broke the connection. Her eyes flew open, the world looking dull and morose after such an intense experience.

_Don't leave me._

She had blurted the thought out without thinking, an instinctive reaction. He paused mid way between his stride to the Shadow's hiding place. His face half-turned towards her.

His response was instantaneous.

She gasped as the wall of earnestness hit her.

_I'll never leave you._

And then she _knew_.

Before his next words had even formed in her mind, she knew. Zelda felt his trepidation, his hope, his doubts and his ache mixing potently. She felt his yearning touch her.

Her heart trembled as his words arrived.

_Marry me._

The reality of the words still startled her, and she felt herself grinning without realising it. Memories spun around her. Cyle, Malon, Link asking this very same question all that time ago. So very long ago.

_Link, not now. You're still in battle._

_So?_

She hesitated, frowning. Could she do it again? So soon after ending one such union?

_Tell me you love me, Link._

There was no hesitation.

_I love you, Zelda._

Like a torch igniting in her heart, she knew that this would be nothing like her previous marriage and that Link was nothing like Cyle. A torrent of love floated over her, making her glide like a cloud. She sank to her knees, the emotion overpowering, a waterfall of tears washing her face.

_Well?_ His voice came again.

Zelda blinked, stars still sparkling in her vision.

_Well…?_ Her reply, losing focus as she awoke from her daze.

A heartbeat passed.

A second.

_Will you marry me?_

A third.

Curling all her feelings into a ball she flung them at her Hero with all the ferocity she could muster. The effort drained her.

_Yes. Yes, I will._

The Shadow leapt at Link. He whirled in response, a lop-sided grin planted on his face. Link surged, his first slice cutting through the Shadow's sword arm. He twirled, the second strike felling the demon. With a pause for a single thudding heartbeat, Link swung his sword in a screaming, lethal arc that went straight through the Shadow's neck.

It was over.

*

They gathered around the Eye to the Ages, the pool watching the friends dispassionately as they tended to wounds and shared in the reunion.

"Haha. Looking good!" Chitz said to Link with a wink.

The Hero grinned at the Imp, his arm around Zelda's shoulders as his fingers stroked her hair. Tessa smiled at them, her arms folded on her chest. Zelda smiled back.

Zayna walked up to them, briefly resting her hand on the Queen's shoulder, the relief clear in her eyes.

"Well, Your Highness," she said. "We didn't find a way out up there."

Zelda chuckled. "I guess I can be wrong sometimes."

"I guess so," Zayna answered with a smirk.

"But only sometimes," the Queen added, her grin growing wider.

Tyron and Fran were kneeling beside the Prince, the Freelander groaning as they tended to him.

"Will he be well?" Link asked.

_Is that concern I hear?_ Zelda added a wicked edge to her tease. _About Chizan?!_

She felt him smile in response. _He's a good man._

"He will if he stops fidgeting," Tyron replied sourly.

Fran got to his feet with a small laugh. He sighed, happy that they were all together again; amazed that Link was standing before him alive and well, albeit slightly taller and looking a lot more…mature. His gaze fell on his daughter, her smiling face enhancing her already pretty features so much that he felt his heart bubble with pride. Out of the corner of his eye, he spied the fallen corpse of the Shadow, dark and decapitated.

Curious, Fran walked around the pool, wanting to get a closer look at this demon that looked so much like Link. Gingerly, Fran touched his injured shoulder, remembering the wound the Shadow had given him and the intentions he had had for Tessa. The hunter's lip curled and he spat, giving the Shadow a sharp kick.

He crouched, his eyes studying the fallen creature with disgust. Fran noticed with a mild sense of surprise that there was no blood. He reached out, meaning to touch the demon's skin, wondering what it felt like -

- and the Shadow sprang up with a hissing roar, ghostly features reforming into a head and arm. Fran yelled, horror shocking him back to his feet.

His friends twisted around at the sound of his scream. In an instant, Link pushed Zelda out of the way and flung his sword straight at the Shadow. It hit the demon point blank and he fell back, back, back, his arms whirling. Suddenly, with a last burst of energy, the Shadow grabbed Fran's tunic, pulling him down. The hunter's eyes widened as he stared into the creature's leering grin.

"No!" Link jumped forward, lunging forward to reach for his friend.

The Shadow fell into the pool with a laugh, Fran quickly plummeting with him. Link stretched, desperate. His fingertips brushed Fran's back.

But it was too late.

The Shadow and the hunter were lost forever.

*

Malon opened her eyes, one tear slowly curling down her cheek. The ship bobbed up and down as it ploughed through the waves on their way to the island of the Gate. Navi whizzed around her, the fairy's light blurring her vision.

"What is it?" Navi cried. "What's wrong?"

Malon's face set into a stony expression. "My vision has been realised," she said, her voice harsh and soft. "A good man has been lost today."

She turned as Lorfor bounded across the deck, his mouth stretched in a wide grin.

"We're almost there!" he cried in happiness. "Your Helpers said~"

Lorfor froze as he noticed the look on her face. He knew. She did not have to convey the news, he knew just from the way she looked. Malon's heart went out to him in pity.

"Lorfor," she said quietly. "There's something I need to tell you."


	33. Crossroads

Chapter 32

The burning sand curled around Cyle's toes as his bootless feet sank into the island's beach. Hands on his hips, the Hylian monarch surveyed the scene as the waves of the sea sloshed up against the shore behind him and his men scurried around heaving crates full of supplies. The mist hung above them in the air, a portentous cloud watching them with dark grey eyes. It was high enough not to affect their visibility and Cyle was grateful for that, though he felt a little uneasy at the unnaturalness of the phenomenon. Before him loomed a jungle that stretched away into the distance, small, brightly coloured creatures darting in and out of the foliage, the echoing sounds of exotic birds ringing in the air.

He felt Chalance Vance stop at his side, but did not turn to him. "How go the preparations?" Cyle asked.

"All is well," his Advisor answered. The sorcerer was still clad in his long, flowing robes and Cyle saw that the man was sweating profusely from the humidity. The fool. "We have a small party that will accompany us to the Gate. Once there, I will open a portal and bring in the remaining Morolak regiments. Then we can enter."

Cyle peered into the gloomy darkness of the jungle. "Where _is_ the Gate anyway?"

He felt Vance fidget beside him. "The map Beldrig gave us only specifies the location of the island," the Advisor answered. "I would assume that the Gate is at the centre of this jungle."

Finally, Cyle turned to him one eye raised. "You would assume…?" he said, noticing the tight grip Vance had on his staff. It was as though the staff were a child to him. "You mean you don't know?"

The sorcerer licked his lips, throwing the King a hurried glance. "Not exactly, no. But the island is small and it will not take us long."

With a deep sigh, Cyle walked to the edge of the jungle, his arms outstretched as he bathed in the sun's rays. His tunic clung to him like a sticky skin, but Cyle was not perturbed. 

"The Key, Vance," he called, turning his head back slightly. "Where is she?"

There was a pause before the sorcerer answered in a mournful tone, "My agents failed to capture her."

Cyle's brow knitted in frustration and he spun on his heel, snarling. "So Zelda still has her?" He cocked his head in exasperation, before fixing his Advisor with a glare. "How many times must you fail me in this regard? How many?"

His chest heaved as he let his anger free. A drop of sweat rolled down his nose. 

Vance kept his gaze, a dispassionate look on his face. There was something in the man's eyes that Cyle did not like. Some glitter of cunning, some small note of triumph that hinted at hidden knowledge.

"This was to be expected," the sorcerer said. "We know where they are headed now."

"Which is?"

"The Temple of the Dead."

Cyle's forehead throbbed. It seemed like he was having the same conversations with Chalance Vance over and over again. He was being left in the dark once more. And yet, something stopped him from challenging his Advisor to tell him more. Something heavy that weighed at the back of his mind like a hot coal.

"What do they seek there?"

Vance snorted, his face curling into a smirk. "Foolish dreams," he spat. "Do not worry, Sire. Once they arrive there we will have them. I have a little…surprise planned for them. One that will not fail at all."

"See that it doesn't," Cyle answered, throwing one last meaningful glance at him. 

A soldier shuffled up to them, his eyes darting nervously between the pair as he tried to keep his composure. He was obviously awed in the presence of his seniors. A good thing, Cyle mused. He studied the man's face, looking over his smooth skin and youthful features. The Hylian could be no more than sixteen summers past, one of the new conscripts from Hyrule. Cyle wondered how they would fare trekking through the jungle if this was the quality of his companions.

"Speak," the King ordered.

The soldier gave a shaky salute, before turning his full attention to Cyle. "Sire. We are ready to depart, Sire."

Cyle nodded with a small smile. He knitted his fingers and bent them outwards, cracking the knuckles. "Good," he said, his gaze still on the Hylian. "Then let us go."

The King turned back towards the jungle, the feeling of satisfaction growing in his heart. He froze and his mouth dried. He heard gasps from his men around him. Emerging from the foliage were a large group of scarred, muscular men, their spears at the ready and their faces fierce.

One of them towered over Cyle and he had to take a step back. The man spoke, his voice growling. 

"You shall _not_ pass."

                                                                                                                     *

They marched on in silence, their horses left behind at the mouth of the mines. They traversed along a winding path that cut through yet another forest of tall trees. Heads bent low, the feeling of loss floated in the air between them. Link strode ahead, his silver armour clinking with every step, his narrowed eyes, enclosed in blue and red tattoos, scanning the area. Zayna and Chizan walked behind him and Zelda and Tessa were at the rear. The farm girl clung to the Queen's arm, her nails digging into Zelda's arm. The Imp was still lodged in Tessa's backpack, his head resting on her shoulder as his large, yellow eyes swam with sadness.

Zelda looked down at the farm girl and stroked her hand. Tessa's pale face was a knot of pain, her eyes red with continuous crying, her hair and clothes untidy and ragged. The girl barely spoke now, and she had started to lose weight off of her already slender form. Zelda ached in sympathy for her, and felt a trace of guilt too. It was her that had dragged Fran into their quest. It was her that had led him to his end.

_It wasn't your fault, Zelda. You didn't know what was going to happen._

She looked up at the sound of Link's voice in her mind. His presence was like a warm bed, her heart resting on a rock of certainty that gave her strength. It was the intimate bond that she had craved for throughout her life and she would forever be grateful for it. And well she should be. It was still strange to her, this connection of theirs. In her sheltered youth, hidden away behind castle walls, she may have even dreamt of having such a relationship. But as she grew older and reality had sunk its teeth in, she had known love to be something quite different, something that was not always the be all and end all of existence. She had felt no urgency to find another after the bitterness that was Cyle. But Link's re-entry into her life had awoken those old, old fancies and hopes. The ones children have, but are never realised.

And, yet she was, experiencing something that she believed no one else prior to her ever had. Quite literally, a dream come true.

Still. It was not like they could read one another's thoughts. They sensed each other's moods and the subtle shifts therein and interpreted them as they wished. More often than not they were right in their conclusions. When they wanted, they could shape their emotions into words and converse with one another, at other times they were silent, covered like a blanket over a sleeping child. She respected the times when he stayed quiet, knowing when he wished to be alone with his own thoughts and knowing when he wished to speak. He did the same to her too, and only occasionally did he intrude into her mind unwanted, though he would back away when he felt her tingle of irritation. 

There was still a lot of adjusting to do.

She sent out a wave of thanks for his concern.

_I know that, Link. It's just…I can't help it. _She added a tinge of amusement. _I'm too used to taking responsibility for everything._

She felt his light chuckle and his shushing away of all her doubts. 

_You enjoy fretting over people, _he teased._ It's you, and I love you for it._ She grinned inwardly. A tiny flicker of a warning reached her. _But don't let it kill you, Zelda. _She felt his attention shift. _Tessa doesn't blame you, I'm sure. And give her time; she'll open up to us soon._

Zelda let her sigh float to him. _I hope so, Link._

It had been a bittersweet week. Emerging from the caverns, they had seen the Morose Mountains looming in the distance, a silent guard watching over the land. They had stopped to conduct a small ceremony in Fran's honour, Chizan in particular, speaking ancient and touching words from Freelander funeral rites. Tessa had broken down and sobbed, barely sleeping or eating. They had worried over her, trying to get her to eat the smallest morsels, but she would not budge. She had not left Zelda's side for more than she needed to either.

A few days later, Tyron had conducted a simple ceremony, tying Link to Zelda. She had felt surreal over the whole thing, having to deal her grief with her happiness. Most strange of all was that it had been at Tessa's insistence, on the rare occasion that she had decided to speak. On the day of the ceremony itself, she had given them her first smile for a long time. It had been nothing more than an exchange of vows, Zelda knowing that nothing more extravagant could happen until they retook Hyrule and were finally at peace. She wondered how the Hylian aristocracy would react, but decided that she would tackle that if and when she was faced with it.

Zelda had felt Link's eagerness during the whole ceremony, the sheer relief he had felt after many summers of pent-up frustration. She had sensed the happiness in his heart and it gratified her, though she did notice that it was laced with a sense of unbelief, a sense that this was unreal and that she would float from his grasp once more. She had been apprehensive and excited also, though her feelings had a duller edge to them. After all, she had been through this once already. She had had to bolster his certainty, comforting him by opening her soul so that he could see how happy she was too. They merged like that for an instant, their feelings giving more weight to their vows.

Tragedy had struck again after that. Tyron's wound had festered and whatever dark poison that had laced the Shadow's weapon and spread through her old friend's body. A fever had overtaken him and he jerked in painful spasms as Zelda had held onto his hand tightly, tears rolling down her face. He had whispered words about a promise he had made to her mother before her death to keep Zelda safe. His voice had been thick with emotion, the weight of the pledge obviously something he took seriously.

And then, after many summers of faithful service, after a long life of being the Old Wise Man of Hyrule Castle, Tyron had died.

Link had tried to fill her mind with comfort, but she had pushed him away. She needed to deal with this on her own, needed to taste the pain just so she knew she could endure it. She was the Queen of Hyrule and she did not want to weaken herself by becoming too reliant on the Hero of Time. And also she needed to keep the flame alive, the flame that snatched at her feet and kept her going, the flame of injustice that had been lit by Cyle.

Link was prodding at the corners of her psyche again and she opened her mind in response.

Zelda, I promise you that as soon as all this is over, you'll have the grandest wedding in history.

_I don't need that, Link. One wedding per lifetime was enough for me. _She paused, momentarily forgetting her grief over fallen friends. _Besides, you have to stop thinking that you need to buy me…things…to win me over. I'm past that part in my life._

_A Princess who doesn't like luxurious gifts? _he teased. _Bringing yourself down to our level are we?_

For some reason she felt a twinge of annoyance at the words. He caught it though and she felt his sincere remorse. _I'm sorry. I'm just jesting._

She sent him a smile of comfort_. I know. I shouldn't be so sensitive._ She wrapped her next thought with a playful edge. _Besides, I'm a Queen, not a Princess. I have finer tastes._

_Oh? _She felt his mirth and had to stop herself from laughing. _Would that include a newly refined taste in Heroes with tattooed faces?_

_Don't flatter yourself, _dear_._

Zelda relaxed, happy to be herself as she had always been whenever she was with him. She was still taken back by his new-found boldness with her though, his self-assurance that shone within him.

_It's because of you, Zelda,_ he said, reading into her feelings. _It's because you…_

_Oh, stop,_ she responded with a mental chuckle. She knew how he felt about her, and was always happy to hear him say it, but whenever he implied that it was _only_ because of her that he had pulled himself from the brink that it scared her. At first she had been touched, but after a while she just wanted to believe that it was the two of them together, that she had just set him on the way and then he had grasped the opportunity himself. _People don't need someone to love them in order to be their true selves._

She heard the contradiction in her own words, knew that she did not really let herself go around anyone save him, but she still stuck to them. This was different. She kept herself closed for a variety of reasons, whether it was because of custom, courtly manners or anything else. Link had always needed to be prodded before letting down his guard.

_Some people _do_ need to be loved,_ he replied, his mood serious. _I did. I guess I'm not as Heroic as everyone assumes._

And there was that earnestness again, that endearing feeling that he was lost and awkward, though still sincere. A sharp contrast to what she had sensed from him only moments ago. She realised that she was glad it was still a part of him, but also relieved that it no longer dominated him, though his words still triggered off the conflict in her – half of her wanting to soar because he needed her so, the other half wanting him to be her equal and not as a child to his mother. 

_Is it wrong to feel what I do? _he asked. _Am I not allowed to have one little weakness? And can't that weakness be you?_

She ignored the question, though she could not hide the simple joy the words brought to her heart, deciding instead to play along with his earlier suggestion_. Well. If it's a big wedding, I want all of Hyrule to be there. I mean, all my people. And enough food for everyone. And a week of celebration. _She paused as she pondered. _I want a grand dress too, the likes of which no one has ever set eyes on before._

_You want _all_ the people there?_

_Yes. I enjoy fretting over people, remember? _she added with a grin. _If one person is unhappy or left out then the day will be ruined. _She sent him a mock-stern frown. _I want there to be dancing too. And _you_ have to dance._

_No! Spare me! _ he replied, coating the thought with a grin. _Is it too late to back out of this marriage?_

Zelda had to bite down to stop herself from laughing out loud. _You're with me for eternity, Hero._

Something nagged at her at those words. She had thought that she and Cyle were for eternity also. Link showered her with a soothing embrace to her heart.

_For eternity,_ he repeated. _Though that's how long it's probably going to take me to pay off this wedding._

He turned his head around to her with a smile and she giggled in response, her cheeks reddening slightly as she felt a measure of guilt at being so jovial while Tessa was in so much pain at her side.

Zayna looked up, her eyes flicking from between the Hero and the Queen. "You two need to find yourselves a room in an Inn," she said. 

Zelda frowned. At any other time, Zayna would have said the same with a trace of humour in her voice. But this time her tone was strained and Zelda noticed the tightness around her eyes and the haggard look to her face. As they drew closer to their meeting with the dragon, Zelda knew that Zayna must be under a tremendous stress that, like Tessa, she would not share with the others.

The Key shifted the weight of her travelpack as she walked on.

"Do you want me to carry that?" Zelda asked.

"I'm fine," the other answered simply.

"Are you sure? I can~"

"I'm _fine._"

"Let us camp for the night." It was Chizan's voice. The Prince had passed no comment on Link and Zelda's union and had reverted back to his tight-lipped detached demeanour that Zelda remembered from their first meeting. "Up ahead is a small town. It lies in a valley between here and the Temple of the Dead. In the morning we can get supplies."

Link stopped, unshouldering his travelpack. "A good idea," he said. "Let's take a rest."

                                                                                                                      *

Tessa let her head rest against the trunk of the tree, watching the others prepare the camp with glassy eyes. In her hand, she rolled the jewel Link had given her between her fingers. She could not bear to look at it though, not because Link was finally lost to her, but because every time she peered into the glittering green gem she saw the smiling face of her father staring back at her.

She felt the tears well up within her, springing from the gaping wound in her heart. First her mother and now her Papa was gone too. The world felt constricted to her, like she would suffocate from the looming sense of loneliness. It did not matter to her whether it was night or day; everything was now dark in her eyes.

Tessa gasped as the Prince swung down from the branches, a smile creasing his upside-down golden face.

"Your Highness," she said. "You startled me!"

A frown crossed his face. "I apologise." He hung there, swinging slightly in the breeze. Tessa thought he looked almost humorous. "You look sad."

Tessa blinked; surprised that anyone would state something so obvious. "Well…yes, Your Highness," she mumbled. "I think I have a right to be."

"Don't call me 'Your Highness'," he said, dropping from the tree and landing on his feet. "Call me Chizan."

She smiled in response, looking down and feeling awkward. Tessa had never really spoken to the Prince before and was a little taken back at his attempt at showing familiarity. He sat before her, his arms around his legs, slowly rocking back and forth like a child. He studied her face in silence until she thought her cheeks would burn from embarrassment. Her heart trembled, hoping he was not here to talk about things she did not want to discuss.

"You remind me of my sister," he added, before blinking in thought. "Well, one of my sisters."

"Oh?" she asked with another smile. She was pleased that he had not come to force her to speak about her Papa after all. "How many do you have?"

"Twenty-six," he replied without hesitation. 

Her mouth dropped open. "Twenty-six?! Your mother must have been very busy!" She blushed as she realised exactly what he said. She chastised herself inwardly. Surrounded by all these worldly-wise people she felt more than a little left out. Once a farmgirl, always a farmgirl. Tessa sighed.

The Prince chuckled. "Well, she is two hundred and fifty summers old" he said with a shrug. 

Tessa leaned forward, her pain slightly forgotten as she hung on the Prince's words. She heard the faint chirping of the insects of the night and the soft hoot of an owl. For a moment she remembered being back home, laughing and playing as a fire burned on festival night.

"Then how old are _you_?" She caught herself again, feeling ashamed. "Oh! That is, if it's okay for me to ask."

"Yes, it is." He grinned and gave her a wink. "Just under a hundred."

She swallowed, fascinated by the revelations. 

"Freelanders have long lives," he added.

"I guess so," she said. There was a whole world outside of Lon Lon that she only knew about vaguely. Still. What was the point of it if she had no one to share it with?

"May I see that, please?" He held out his hand motioning at her jewel. Cautiously, she placed the gem in his palm, puzzled at the request.

His fingers curled around it into a shaking fist and her heart lurched as she heard pops and cracks. The muscles in his hand spasmed and rolled, as tiny flecks of green crystal flew from his grasp. 

Tessa peered forward as he slowly opened his hand. Sitting amongst the broken shards was a small, perfectly formed replica of Lon Lon Ranch. She blinked, taking it from him and feeling it in her hands just to convince herself that it was real.

"How did you…?" she gasped, not able to find the words. "Is this magic?"

Chizan flinched as though he had been stung and Tessa wondered if she had said something wrong. "No, no, no!" he said hastily. "Not magic." He softened his tone with a smile. "Just another Freelander skill."

"Thank you," she breathed, raising her head so that their eyes met. 

The Prince's hands curled around hers and he closed her fingers over the gift. "You must set your heart free, daughter of One with Heroic Deeds," he said with a soft smile. "While we all still breathe, you will never be alone."

                                                                                                                 *

A lantern hung from the tree, spreading faint, dreamy light as Zayna trained with Link. The others slept softly in their bedrolls, all save Chitz the Imp who silently watched master and apprentice spar under a night sky. They were not fighting with any particular zeal, their strikes slow, lazy and easy to deflect. Link was showing her various swordfighting manoeuvres, puncturing the sound of ringing steel with his comments.

"When you battle," he said, his sword slicing in a sluggish arc which she parried easily. "Do not think too much about your opponent. Don't consider him a fellow person with thoughts and feelings like yourself. You only have one task – to gain victory over him."

"Or her," she replied, frowning as she lowered her sword. She let the words sink in. "This is different to what you taught me before. I'm no longer supposed to care?"

He smiled and darted forward with a thrust. She caught the blow and spun away.

"This way," he said. "You won't let your emotions get the better of you. Insults won't drive you to do anything rash. Your opponent will not be able to use your emotions against you."

She ducked another strike and tested his armour with a swing of her own. She was glad of the diversion, glad that her mind would not dwell on that gnawing dread that haunted her when she thought of what was yet to come. Zayna was able to let out her frustrations through this exercise and her attacks had an extra drive to them.

"So I'm supposed to think of them as a hunk of meat?" she asked.

"No," he replied, taking the brunt of the blow without flinching and twirling his sword. "Think of them as an empty space."

Zayna scowled, raising one eyebrow. "An empty space with a weapon?"

"Yes," he answered. "Until they're defeated. Then you make your choice. Have mercy and let them flee, or finish them off."

She swallowed, again feeling puzzled. "Why should such a responsibility be given to me?"

"It's the victor's right."

She dug her sword tip down into the ground, signifying the end of their round. Leaning forward on the hilt, she continued, "How do I know which choice to make?"

Link sheathed his sword. "If they're so wounded that they won't fight again, you should let them go," he answered, reaching for two water pouches and throwing one to her. "If they've had the fight taken out of them, you let them go." He uncorked the pouch and took a long swig. "If there's still that ferociousness about them, then all they'll do is return to haunt you another day. In fact, they may target you specifically, or target someone dear to you." He paused, his gaze level. "In which case, it's better for all if they don't live."

Zayna wiped her mouth after taking a sip. Everything she was hearing this night was new to her and it was taking her a while to digest it all. "How do I know if they're still going to fight or not?"

"You'll know given enough time and experience. You'll know from their posture. You'll know just by sniffing the air."

Zayna shook her head, sitting down besides the Imp to rest. "You ask a lot."

Link smiled. "It takes a lot to be the Hero."

She sighed, playing with laces on her boots. "Do I really want to be the next Hero?"

He sat down in front of her, cross-legged. "Are you asking me or yourself?" he said. When she did not reply, he added, "Is it what you truly want?"

Zayna had no answer to that. For what seemed like forever she had been running from life, not able to find a place to fit in, not able to feel like she belonged. And yet, this had defined her, made her savour life that much more. By constantly being on the lookout for the next possible danger, she had not felt any sort of emptiness. She supposed that living life as a Hero would be more of the same. She might just enjoy it. But only if she could rid herself of her curse.

"You're not setting a good example, Link," she said, ignoring his question.

He locked his fingers together, waiting for her to explain.

"Look at you. A wife," she cocked her head in Zelda's direction. "A whole new life. You'll be having children next." Her mouth curled. "You've gone soft."

"That's why the faster we get you ready, the faster I can settle down," he replied with a grin. He stood up and Zayna let her gaze follow him.

"Would you really give it all up?" she asked. She was focused now, concentrating, relieved once again that she did not have to think on other thinks that shrivelled her heart and made her irritable. "The adventuring, I mean."

He paused to look back at her with a piercing gaze. "No, never," he answered with a soft voice. "It's in my blood. And it'll be in the blood of all my children too."

Zayna's gaze fell on her sleeping friends. "Looks like Zelda's having pleasant dreams nowadays," she said with a smirk.

Link looked over to his sleeping wife, and Zayna saw the look of adoration shining in his eyes. She almost felt awed by it.

"Yes," he answered. "She's dreaming about her childhood in Hyrule."

Zayna snorted as she got to her feet, brushing off the dust from her tunic. "Link, how could you _possibly_ know what she's dreaming about?"

The sound of galloping hooves broke into their conversation and, with an exchange of panicked glances; they ran to the source, Chitz following behind them. The trio sprinted down the path, Link and Zayna drawing their weapons with a metallic screech. Scrambling to crouch behind a large, moss-covered boulder, they peered into the murky darkness, waiting. The rhythmic thud got louder and louder and their eyes narrowed, their hands tightening around the hilts of their swords.

"Look, boss," Chtiz whispered.

A small girl came running into view, dark scratches lining her arms, her eyes full of fear. A masked rider emerged from behind her, swinging his sword as he gained on the child. Zayna hissed in disgust. She did not need to have any lessons from Link to know that this person did not deserve any mercy when she caught up with him.

She sprang from their hiding place, ready to pounce, but heard Link's voice from behind. "Zayna! This way!"

She followed his gaze, noticing that the path sloped down and around, leading back on itself. Link slid down the slope, hoping to catch the rider off at a point further ahead. Cursing herself for not taking note of her surroundings and planning ahead, Zayna followed him down, watching the blur of the horse through the gaps in the trees, like the flicker of the moon's reflection on calm waves.

They reached the bottom and Link flipped his hookshot out from his belt. Zayna watched the path intently, tensing as she awaited the rider's arrival. A shuffle of movement, and the girl was there, running with short, frantic breaths. Link poised his finger above the hookshot's activation key.

The girl passed them without noticing their presence and suddenly the rider appeared, bounding after her with furious strides. Link waited, waited…and then let the spike free, watching as it dug into a tree opposite them. The rider tried to rein his horse in, but it was too late. He collided straight into the hookshot's chain, flying off his horse and landing in a heap. 

The trio ran up to the girl. "Are you alright?" Zayna asked, crouching down beside the small child. She grinned back at them, the look in her eyes making Zayna feel distinctly uncomfortable. Something swirled in them, something not tethered to the world. Zayna wondered if she had been abused by her pursuer or if something more horrific had occurred. Feeling her anger rise, Zayna tried to reach for her, but the girl stepped away.

And then the forest became alive. Bowstrings tightened with a twang, and the whisper of unsheathed blades rained in around them. Swarming out from hidden places in the trees, armoured soldiers surrounded them, their swords waving menacingly. They were more Hylian in appearance than Freelander.

Zayna raised her own sword, snarling in anger, her feet spinning in the earth as she tried to cover all angles. Chitz clung to her leg fearfully.

She glanced at Link, but he shook his head slightly. Reaching over, he pushed her sword down. "Not now," he whispered, his voice strangely calm. "They've won this one."

The fallen rider got to his feet and strode towards them, the other soldiers making a path for him. The rider removed the mask, revealing the features of a grinning woman with dark hair and eyes that sparkled dangerously. She snapped her fingers and the girl ran to her, letting herself be swallowed in the woman's embrace.

"What do you want with us?" Link asked, his face neutral, and his eyes hard. He looked around, taking in his surroundings, Zayna hoping that his keen mind was planning some sort of escape. She swallowed, looking around at all the stares aimed at them. None shone with the light of mercy.

The woman stroked the little girl's hair. "I'll decide that later," she said. "But for now, you three are the prisoners of Milledra, the Queen of the Dead."


	34. The Burden of Power

Chapter 33

Link kicked the pebbles out of his path, watching them spin before letting his gaze fall casually around him as he searched for an escape route. They walked as a group, Zayna and Chitz by his side. They were encircled by soldiers who grinned and chatted to each other, throwing playful curses and friendly wagers. The woman, Milledra, rode ahead slowly, her eyes faced front, her back straight. She carried Link's sword on her back. The little girl hung onto her waist. They had stripped Link and Zayna of all their visible weapons, but the Hero wasn't too perturbed. Hidden in the sole of one boot was a slender, silver dagger. He pressed down with his foot feeling the comforting hard edge and he smiled inwardly, knowing he had at least one thin advantage.

Sunlight curled around the leaves of the trees, giving the appearance of dripping, liquid gold and a light breeze disturbed the twigs and dust by their feet. The guards immediately around them had their weapons trained and ready, their blades coated with rust, their armour trembling with each step. One, a bearded, round fellow who had obviously fooled himself regarding his own size by squeezing into armour that was far too small, prodded at Link with his sword, a grin planted on his face, a challenge in his eyes. They were trapped and Link could see no way out of their predicament.

Panic did not sweep over him though, instead a reassuring calm carried him, and he chose to relax a little, letting the warm air play on his face. He was sure an opportunity would present itself in no time. He did not waste any energy fretting in anxiety over how he had let themselves be captured so easily. Silently, he acknowledged the intelligence that had gone into their captors' scheme.

Zayna, he noticed, did not share his optimism. Her mouth in a tight line, she stared hard at the guards, her hands clenching with frustration as she sought to take vengeance. Link tried to throw her a reassuring glance, but she responded with a scowl in her eyes. He smiled and her expression flared once more. She seemed more frustrated with him than their enemies.

The plump guard prodded again. Link steeled himself, finally tiring of the game. The Hero set his face straight and, flicking his narrowed eyes up to the man, he flexed the muscles in his arm just enough so that they grew and strained against his tunic. No words needed to be said. The man backed away with a gulp, the defiant look in his eyes melting into edgy wariness.

A trick a boy would pull, he knew, but Link realised that they were probably dealing with childlike personalities anyway. Most bandits were. He did not recognise their captors' nationalities and, though they were not Freelander, they could very well be from any one of the many countries that surrounded Hyrule. 

The Hero of Time took in a deep breath and shut out the rest of the world. It dissolved away from him, his heart zoning in with a flutter of anticipation.

_Zelda?_

He had to stop himself from stumbling as her panicked response came.

_Link?! Link, where are you? What happened?_

_Sssh._

He felt her steady herself, and he wanted to smile, proud at the strength of his Queen. His wife.

The two words tingled in his soul, lulling him with happiness so much that he almost would not have cared if death came to him at his captors' hands. Just to know that Zelda was his for one moment in his life was more than enough.

Link felt her smile tickle him_. What's happened?_

He told her and sensed her thoughts taking on the sharp edge of determination. _I'm coming_, she said.

Link stopped himself from shaking his head physically. _No. They don't want to see us dead. Let me handle this. Trust me._

She nudged him with doubt, but felt her fall away slightly, tasting a slight reluctance in her mood. _I trust you, Link. But keep me informed._

_I will_. Link whispered a smile to her. _Go to the town that Chizan mentioned. Stock up on supplies and wait for me._

Relieved that he had heard her voice for even such a short burst of time, he turned his mind to other matters. Clearing his throat, Link raised his hand for attention. "Can we at least know where we are going?" he called, his voice bouncing off of the trees.

Some of the soldiers looked at him with amused eyes, others spoke silently, a ripple of voices whirling around them.

Milledra turned her head slightly. "Are you in a position to ask such questions?"

Link smiled in response. He had to be careful until he was fully aware of the type of people he was dealing with. "It would be a courtesy from a gracious host."

Some of the men smiled and Link heard Milledra laugh softly. Link was glad; if the tension eased they would be more likely to make a mistake. He could feel Zayna's glare upon him, but he ignored it. Chitz scrambled around at his feet, the Imp's short legs struggling to keep up. Wisely, he had not made any motion to speak.

"Where else would the Queen of the Dead go?" the woman asked. "But to the Town of the Dead?"

Queen of the Dead. Town of the Dead. Temple of the Dead. It made sense.

"I take it we won't find Re-Deads there then?" he asked.

Link thought she might laugh at that, but she replied with a serious tone, "This area is the Valley of the Dead. It lies on the border between the Morolak and Freelander land." There was a tug of sadness to her voice that Link found interesting. He was also pleased to have discovered their nationality. "There have been many disputes over the territory. Bloody and brutal. At the moment we are in control. We took advantage of the Freelanders confusion in their war with Hyrule." There was a pause, the soldiers listening intently, pride glowing on their faces. "We hope to make a final push and remove their stain from our lands."

Link was caught by a sense of urgency. 

_Zelda. The town isn't safe. Tell Chizan that it has been taken by Morolaks. Go to the Temple of the Dead._

He felt her acknowledgement. She asked no questions though he knew she was puzzled.

"Are you working on behalf of your government?" he asked with genuine curiosity.

"No."

"Then why…? What's so important?"

She stopped and turned to him with a glare. "Because I want it, that is all," she said with a snarl. "There's no national pride here. There are no precious minerals here. This isn't about justice or injustice. My family ruled this town for generations. The Freelanders were our slaves. Then they learned the ways of war, the ways of striking back. And they took the town and spread their teachings to the rest of their brethren." She leaned down, her eyes twinkling. "If you've ever tasted what it's like to have power over another person then you'll know that it's an addiction like wine. All I want – and all my companions want – is to taste that again. For ourselves, and for those that will come after us."

Silently, Link was relieved. Had it been an issue of justice he would have had to have taken sides. Though he was now fully prepared to do so even against the Freelanders he had so ably aided at the battle of Narik's Rock, he did not need such complications when he had more important things weighing on his mind. Zelda's throne and Zayna's condition were his priorities now and, in the greater scheme of things, they were far more pressing than a land dispute, no matter how justified that dispute may be.

Still. With no frame of reference except owning a sword, a horse and a hut, he was puzzled at Milledra's reasons. It must have showed on his face.

"You wouldn't understand," she said with a hint of contempt, turning away. 

Silence. Link noticed that the soldiers were waiting for him to speak as though they were witnessing some great debate. He wondered if they knew who he was. His posture, his hair, the markings on his face were now altered in such a way that only those who looked closely and knew what they were searching for would have recognised him.

An obvious thought came to him. "What do you want with us?" He had asked the question before, but now he felt more confident of an answer after building a rapport, however forced it may have been.

The woman did not turn back. "We need you to do something for us," she said. "The Temple of the Dead lies north of here. Inside, is the Mourner's Crown. It is recognised as a holy relic by the Freelanders. Whoever possesses it is given sovereignty."

Suspicion mixed with hope in Link's heart. Was it mere coincidence that they wanted something that was located in the exact place that they were intending to go? Idly, he rubbed the back of one hand, the hand that bore the mark of the Triforce of Courage. Somehow he thought it might guide him, but it stayed cold and silent.

"Why us?" Again, a doubt creased his soul. Did the woman know who he was?

"We observed you training," she said. The words made Link flinch. Had he been off his guard so easily? "We believe you are well prepared for this task."

"Why not do it yourselves?" He let his gaze take them all in. "You seem much more equipped than us. And you have the weight of numbers on your side."

Finally, she did turn back to him, and Link caught the earnest look in her eyes. "This task only has need of a few. We work well as a unit, but as individuals we are lacking." She shrugged, an apologetic look on her face that almost made Link pity her. Almost. "Even I am not good enough."

Zayna stepped forward, surprising him. "What makes you think we will do what you want?" she spat. 

Milledra studied his apprentice with a keen interest. Link swallowed, feeling uncomfortable at the knowing glow in the woman's eyes. This was all far too coincidental. There was another agenda here, he was sure of it. Whether these people were agents of Cyle or whether they were acting independently, they still had some other purpose in mind for him and his friends.

"We will discuss that later," Milledra answered with a tone of finality. With a flick of her hand, she motioned the soldiers to begin the march once more. Turning her horse away from them, she trotted ahead.

Link stopped short. "No," he said, his voice easy and carefree. "Let's discuss this now. Let's discuss why such a weak and rag tag army – though I hesitate to use the term – needs others to do what they themselves won't. Afraid to get your hands dirty?"

Milledra stiffened and hissed. The guards around Link bristled, some spitting with low growls. The Hero smiled back at them. The jibe had been intentional; he needed to know how they would react so that he could plan ahead. Her dark blue armour jingling, the woman disembarked from her horse and slowly made her way to where he stood, her feet crunching the dead leaves and twigs. With a jerk of her head she motioned to two of her soldiers to grab Link from either side. He hung from their hands, feeling their fingers dig into his wrists. He could have let himself away there, to-and-fro, and then used the momentum to swing up with a quick kick, but knew he would be quickly overpowered. Besides, he had another plan in his mind, and he remained patient.

Link waited as his eyes met hers, feeling her hot stare drill into his face. The breeze blew at her, scattering her hair. A faint trace of her exotic scent reached. She had wealth then, to be able to afford such luxuries. And if money alone was not enough to satiate her, then her soul must truly be twisted. The sour taste of disgust rolled in his mouth. The Hero felt the silent anticipation around him, a hushed weight in the air.

Milledra pulled off one of her gloves with her teeth, her eyes not leaving Link for an instant. He could feel Zayna tense beside him, but knew she would not interfere unless she had to.

With a snarl and a flash of emerald anger from her green eyes, the woman slapped the Hero in the face, snapping his head to one side. Letting the hot sting flood over his cheek, Link turned his head back, a wide grin planted on his face. She bared her teeth, infuriated, and cracked him with another blow, this time on the other cheek. He turned back with a chuckle.

There was a slight tremor of fear that he would push her too far, but Link still felt confident. She had wanted to humiliate him in front of her followers in order to flex her authority, but now he was undermining that. He caught the looks of confusion on the faces of some of the soldiers. His earlier assessment was correct – they were nothing more than children. What else but an immature personality would take pleasure in grinding others under their heel? He could use this to his advantage.

Another slap came, harder now and Link decided to let them have what they wanted. He slumped theatrically, his feet slipping in the ground, his head rolling. Milledra stepped back, satisfied and victorious. 

"Please…no more," he croaked. She looked around at her companions with a grin and they responded with a cheer, their weapons raised. They released him, his wrists tingling from the sudden loss of pressure, and inwardly Link laughed. The victory had been his and they had not realised it. Underestimating the Hero of Time would be their fatal error. They were so simple. 

A chant erupted, sincere joy being set free. "_Milledra! Milledra! Long live the Queen of the Dead!"_

He looked up, rubbing his arms as he noticed the knowing look in his apprentice's eyes.

Link and Zayna exchanged meaningful glances as they let themselves be pushed along.

                                                                                                                            *

"I still do not understand how you could have known about a Morolak occupation in advance."

Chizan's puzzled voice floated over to Zelda as she hurried them through the forest, the leaves of the trees stroking against her face and leaving behind the light aroma of grass that reminded her of springtime in Hyrule. The sunlight filtered through the tall branches in a lazy haze, but there was enough light for them to see and sped on, Chizan wary and cautious, Tessa confused, but capitulating. Zelda had taken them off the path, deciding instead to use the cover of the forest to go round straight to the Temple. She had told them that Link and the others had been captured, guiltily making up a tale about witnessing the even during the night.

"I just know, Chizan," she said, keeping her tone patient. "I can't explain it."

"Magic?" he spat.

Zelda frowned, not entirely sure how to answer. Her bond with Link certainly felt magical, but it did not have that suffocating sense of power she had always associated with using the art. The dark art, she now realised. Chizan's preaching must have punctured through all her traditional learning.

"No, don't worry," she replied, turning her head to him. She saw the questioning look in his eyes. "Some things just can't be explained, Your Highness."

His expression softened, seemingly willing to accept this. He must be well-acquainted with the mysteries of the world. 

"Wait!" Zelda skidded to a halt at the urgency in his voice. His hand came to rest on her shoulder, as if afraid she would bolt regardless. "Look ahead. The light."

Narrowing her eyes, she peered forward trying to make out what he had seen. Someway ahead of her the sun's rays widened, signifying an area clear of trees. She felt Chizan sidle up beside her, felt his warm breath as he came close. 

"A clearing," she said. "Do you think it's a camp?"

He shrugged. "I think _someone's_ there."

She looked closer and caught the flicker of movement. The trees barred her vision, but she could just make out the outline of two figures, one on the ground, the other standing.

"Trouble?" she asked.

"Even if it is," he replied. "Should we even reveal ourselves to what may be potential enemies?"

She mulled over his words for a moment, but then heard the metallic breath of a sword cutting the air and the moan of a fearful whimper. Her mind was set.

Zelda bounded over to the clearing, her weapon ready and her ire raised as Chizan and Tessa followed suit. The trees parted to reveal a Freelander woman, fear plastering her face, on her knees as a Morolak man stood over her with his sword. The Queen did not need to see anything else. Falling back on her Sheikah training, she moved as a blur and, with one single leap she caught up to the aggressor. Her temples throbbing with anger, she curled one arm around his neck and brought her sword up to his face. She jerked back making him gurgle and drop his blade.

Chizan was upon him in an instant, his face curled in an uncharacteristic snarl. Tessa crouched beside the fallen woman, the farmgirl enfolding the Freelander in her arms.

"Coward," the Prince barked. "Is your honour so low that you would stoop to such an act?"

Zelda felt herself frown. Chizan had obviously come to a specific conclusion about the nature of the attack, but one glance at the woman's unruffled clothes told Zelda that there was more than meets the eyes here.

"Wait," the man gasped, clutching at the Queen's arm. "Hear me out."

Chizan shook his head, his sword ready. "We will not let our ears be filled with your lies."

Zelda saw it. A sly look had flashed over the Freelander woman's face for just an instant.

"Please," the Morolak choked.

She let him go and the Prince's purple eyes widened in shock, a trace of betrayal shining through. She took a step back, meeting his gaze with regal defiance. She was not going to let him question her. He saw the look, but still moved to speak, "Your Highness. I don't understand."

"We need to be clear on what's happening here, Chizan," she answered. Zelda watched the Morolak soldier rub his throat and saw the woman flinch nervously. 

He held out his hands. "I think it's clear. Our eyes saw everything."

"No," she replied. "Our minds read into what our eyes saw." She glanced over at the man. "Speak."

The Morolak cocked his head from side to side as he tried to bring feeling back into his neck muscles. "The _woman,_" he said, throwing the Freelander a hateful glance. "Entered my home and attempted to rob me. My child – a boy of just four – tried to stop her and she snapped his arm." His chest heaved as the memories threatened to overwhelm him. "My family live on the border. We have always respected the Freelanders and have never entered into disputes with them. What she did was unjust."

The Prince snorted. "You should have thought of a better tale, Morolak," he said. "A Freelander would do no such thing."

Zelda could feel Chizan's anger like something physical in the very air. She had to calm herself, her hands fidgeting with unleashed energy. The image of the man, his sword waving, as he threatened the woman was etched in her mind and it was clouding her judgement. She sensed the Prince's desire for vengeance and felt it run in her veins too, but she closed her eyes, trying to draw on all her knowledge as a diplomat.

Her eyes met the face of the fallen woman. "What say you?" she asked softly. "Is this the truth?"

Chizan shook his head in exasperation. "You are not seriously considering his words are you?" She had to take a step back, so unused she was to hearing anger in his voice. "The man is clearly evil. And he tried to dishonour a good woman."

Zelda realised that he was letting national loyalty get the better of him. She tried to appeal to his good sense. "The world is not divided into good and evil, Chizan," she said, slowly letting her words sink in. "We all have that capacity to choose between the two within ourselves. Sometimes situations force us to do what we usually would not." She paused again, watched as his face crinkled in thought. "You of all people should know that." Zelda turned back to the woman. "Explain yourself. Is what he says true? Do not be afraid, he cannot harm you with us here."

The woman sniffed, pushing herself out of Tessa's arms. "I will not dishonour my Prince with deception," she answered, fixing her eyes on Chizan. "What he says is true." She held up a hand to stop the Prince from speaking. "My family own a valuable heirloom. My father gave it to the Morolak as a gift. As you must know, times are harsh after the war. We needed something to trade with and I asked for it back. My request was refused."

Zelda glanced over at the man. "It is rude to return a gift," he said simply with a shrug.

"So I decided to take it back," the woman finished.

"And his child?" Zelda asked.

The Freelander hardened her gaze, but offered no response. 

Chizan was pacing now. "It matters not about his child," he said. His words made Zelda raise her eyebrows. The Prince was being far too partisan here. It was blinding him, making him think and speak in a manner he usually would not. "It was unjust of him not to return the gift in her hour of need."

"Chizan." Zelda said in a placating tone. "Sometimes we must stand up for justice even if it is against our own selves or those near to us."

"You would side with the Morolak even though the Freelanders aided you in your struggle against your former husband?" Chizan countered. His face was strained and she guessed that deep down he knew that he was fighting a losing battle.

His words were unfair so she ignored them, turning back to the Morolak instead. The man looked back at her with calm eyes.

"We know who you are," he said. "You are the Queen of Hyrule." Zelda tensed, wondering where this was leading. "And the possessor of the Triforce of Wisdom. We ask for your intercession. Judge between us – we will accept your decision."

Zelda looked at the Freelander woman who responded with a small nod. All eyes turned to her now and she felt the weight of their expectation. She had judged in disputes many times in the past as part of her royal duties, but every single time had left her shaken, questioning whether she had done the right thing or not. She knew enough not to let that anxiety show on her face now though. She donned the heavy cloak of judgement and felt that familiar tingle. That terrible, yet sobering sense that she held people's fates – no matter how trivial – in her hands. It was both a temptation and a freedom, a responsibility and a curse.

The image returned to her mind. The Morolak, stalking the fallen, fearful woman with his sword. Her heart responded to it instinctively, a surge of anger that could only be satiated with vengeance. She shook it away. There could be no judgement based on solely that. She had not seen the other images, the woman skulking through the Morolak's home, the wet snap of a child's arm. It was easy to be deceived by only knowing half the story. It was easy to be misled by relying only on her own eyes as proof. Everything had to be taken into consideration, so long as she unearthed as many facts as possible. From there, she had to rely on her own self to sharply discriminate between the two parties and not let herself be tugged by outside influences, whether it be words in her ear, promises of bribes or, as it was in this case, Chizan's demanding stare. She felt the symbol of the Triforce of Wisdom tingle on her hand and she smiled, encouraged.

Zelda eyed the man now, noticing the rich finery to his clothes. "You have wealth?" she asked.

He gave an embarrassed shrug. "I do not need to ask others for assistance," he said simply.

She nodded, grateful that the solution had presented itself. Her mind tracked through all possible answers before she finally settled on one that satisfied her.

"This is my judgement," she said, as the others craned forward to listen. "You," she looked at the Morolak. "Will keep the heirloom as payment for your son's injury and you," here she turned to the Freelander. "Shall indenture yourself to his family. You will work for him in whatever task he deems you fit for." Her eyes flicked to the man. "I trust you will be honourable in this regard?"

He bowed. "I will, Your Highness."

Zelda kept her gaze on him. "In return for her services, you will pay her an adequate stipend – one that is enough to for her to feed her family with." She looked around at all of them. "Does anyone have any objections?"

"No," the Morolak answered. "I accept your decree." He held out his hand with a smile. "I am Salin." 

She took it and smiled in response.

"I accept as well," the Freelander woman said. She turned to her opponent. "I will…tend to your son. If both you and he accept it."

Salin considered this for a moment, unsure of his answer. Zelda wondered how gracious he would be, though she could not really blame him if he turned the request down.

Noticing that he was now the centre of attention, Salin continued, "My boy is forgiving," he said with a smile. There was still a trace of doubt there and Zelda hoped it would pass over time. "We can learn a lot from children."

Taking the Morolak's lead, the Freelander shifted her attention back to the Queen and said, "My name is Nadline."

Zelda grinned, relieved. She wanted to float away as her burden lifted. The very effort of passing judgement had left her exhausted. Her eyes flicked to the Prince. He smiled and gave a short bow.

"You shame me," he said. "Even though I am many summers your elder."

The Queen frowned. Chizan looked no more than thirty-five summers old. "How old _are_ you?" she asked. Her confusion increased as she heard Tessa try to hide a giggle. 

Before he could respond, the Morolak cut in. "Your Highness," he said. "I would be honoured if you would grace my family with your presence."

She looked over at Chizan. "An invitation should not be turned down," he said with a shrug. With a nod, she realised that without Zayna there was little point in them heading to the Temple. This way, she would still be close to Link if he needed her. She just hoped he would be able to escape from his mysterious captors soon.

"Does this invitation extend to Nadline too?" Zelda asked.

Salin straightened his back, his tongue rolling around his cheek in thought. 

"I would like an opportunity to apologise to your son," the Freelander woman said.

A small smile touched his face. "Then so be it."

Zelda grinned. "Good!" she said with genuine warmth. "On behalf of my companions, I accept your invitation."

                                                                                                                           *

They sat opposite each other at the table, Zayna still not quite clear why Milledra had summoned her here whilst leaving Link and the Imp back at the cell. They were in the Town of the Dead now, dwelling in the Morolak woman's home. The house was lavish, silk curtains draping the walls, delicate carvings lining the ceilings and plush carpets coating the floors. Paintings hung on walls within golden frames, Zayna noticing that they depicted children and smiling adults. She wondered if they were all representations of Milledra's family. Zayna guessed that the house should evoke a sense of warmth in her, a homely feeling of togetherness, but all she had was a chilled heart. She did not like to be held captive by anyone. It had happened enough times in her life.

"A nice place for a freedom fighter," Zayna said as the woman flicked a small wooden cup towards her. It spun across the table before whirling to a stop in front of her. She glanced at it long enough to see that it was just water. "Shouldn't you be in less comfortable quarters? Solidarity with your people?"

Milledra studied her impassively, taking a slow sip from her own cup. "Who said I was a freedom fighter?"

Zayna looked away, letting her gaze trail around the room. A fire crackled nearby, the long flames casting a molten glow around them as the wooden logs collapsed in on themselves. The faint aroma of smoke, charred and bitter, tinged the air. "No one," she replied. "I remember. You're just wanting to taste power. Very…convenient."

The Morolak woman raised an eyebrow. She was clad in a woollen, cream-coloured dress. Zayna wanted to laugh. From warrior Queen to woman of the house. The change was quite drastic.

"You don't think that's a believable motivation?" Milledra said, leaning back in chair making it creak. 

Zayna shrugged. "I wouldn't know," she replied. "It seems to satisfy you, though."

"Yes," the Morolak answered simply with a small smile. She tapped her fingers on her cup, watching Zayna intently once more. The Key picked her own drink up, just to have something to do and so she could avoid the other woman's gaze. It was uncomfortable, but she knew there was little she could do about it. She had no power in this conversation.

"Did you take this from a Freelander?" Zayna asked.

"This house?" Milledra replied. "No. This was always in my family's possession. Even after the Freelanders gained their independence, they let us stay here."

Zayna could not resist. "And you return the favour _so_ well." 

The other woman ignored her words. "Do you remember," the Morolak continued, "a little jousting festival that occurred in Hyrule…oh…say five summers ago?"

Zayna let her mind float back. A memory did tug at her, a celebration that Cyle had organised in honour of his Queen. She had sat with the other Advisors near Zelda's side, watching her laugh as the jousters and charged at one another, their weapons clanging in the air, the roar of the crowd voicing their approval. It had been held on Hyrule Field under a hot sun. Many had attended, letting coloured ribbons stream behind them as they enjoyed the spectacle. Happier times.

"Vaguely," Zayna answered.

Milledra smiled. "You took part," she said. "A challenge to the crowd. They asked for two maidens to come forward and test their skills."

Zayna remembered. The other Advisors had pushed at her gently, their words begging her to accept. Even Zelda had smiled at her, encouraging her to enter. Zayna had given in, outwardly showing reluctance, but inwardly relishing the challenge. "Yes," she said, unable to keep the grin off of her face. "I won."

"That you did," Milledra answered. "I know this because your other opponent that day was me."

Zayna's grinned widened and her eyes flicked up to the Morolak's face, connecting in the joy of a shared memory. Milledra smiled back. Then, the reality of her situation sank in to the Key's mind. She tried, unsuccessfully, to scowl.

The Queen of the Dead laughed. "I know what you are," she whispered.

Zayna waited, the icy fingers of dread prodding at the edge of her mind. They remained like that, their gazes locked, seconds feeling stretched as each waited for the other to speak.

Finally, Milledra broke the deadlock. "I know you are the Key."

Swallowing, Zayna did not even bother to wonder how she had discovered this. "What of it?"

"I know that you go to the Temple of the Dead," the Morolak continued. "To try and rid yourself of this…burden."

"Yes," Zayna snapped, losing patience. "So?"

Milledra kept her face neutral. "Why?"

The fire hissed in the background, but to Zayna it was nothing more than a dull sound at the back of her mind. "Why what?"

"Why don't you want to be the Key?"

There was a look of intensity in the Morolak woman's eyes that made everything else in Zayna's vision blur and fade away. It was almost hypnotic and it dizzied her. "Why would anyone want such a curse?" she retorted.

Milledra stood up and slowly walked towards her. Zayna tensed, though she saw no threat in the woman's posture. She felt her walk around to the back of her chair and stop. The Morolak's hands came to rest on Zayna's shoulders. She had to bite down to resist the urge to shake them off. There was no use in provoking her further.

"Have you ever wanted to help people?" Milledra asked in a whisper. 

"Yes, of course."

"Of course." The woman's voice was thick with an emotion Zayna could not quite place. "Have you ever wanted to help someone, but fail?"

She did not want to let the woman's words affect her, but Zayna still felt her mind trawl through her memories to find some sort of reference. She shook her head.

"Ah," Milledra continued, leaning down so that her face was by Zayna's ear. She could feel the Morolak's breath on her cheek, smelt the spicy aroma of it, like the incense that burned in temples. "What about your mother? What if you could have saved her from death?"

Zayna felt a twinge in her heart at the mention of her mother, but it was smothered by the spark of anger. "Why are you asking me all this?" she said, her voice growling.

Milledra stood up straight again, her hands lifting from Zayna's shoulders. "You have not thought this through," she said, her words slick with a sense of cunning intelligence. "You haven't considered the power that you have."

Zayna felt the nag of confusion in her mind, but she pushed it down. "Unlike you, power does not interest me."

"Oh?" Milledra answered, amusement floating in her tone. "Here's a proposition. You have the ability to open the Gate. Once you do so, you can enter the Sacred Realm…and become Joined yourself." She paused as Zayna felt her skin grow cold. "Imagine the power. You could alter reality. Help all the people of the world, right all wrongs and let everyone be truly happy. Forever." She licked her lips, placing her hands down on the table. Zayna found her breath growing short, a cold sweat breaking on her face. Milledra fixed her with a stare so strong that Zayna wanted to flinch. "You could go back in time and save your mother."

Hope fought in Zayna's heart, fighting to break free with ferocity. It was tempered by confusion, by the numbing feeling that something was not quite right. Her mind spun. 

"All you would have to do," the Queen of the Dead continued, her voice dripping with honey. "Is to open the Gate. Kill the Hylian King. And slaughter the Sacred Realm's Emperor." Milledra let the words wash over Zayna's mind, prodding, tugging, desperately enticing. "So simple."

_So simple._ Zayna stood up abruptly, almost falling away from the table in dizziness. She wanted to speak, but her tongue felt thick, like there was iron coating her mouth. She saw Milledra watching her with detachment, not offering any aid. 

"I see you need time to think things over," the Morolak said. Zayna could not help notice the sense of satisfaction lacing her words. The Queen of the Dead clapped her hands and a pair of guards appeared out of nowhere, their hands clutching at the Key, steadying her as she shook. "You may go now. But please _do_ think about it. Think of all the _good_ you can accomplish."

Zayna dragged her feet, letting herself be taken back to her cell. As she came out of the house into the cool air, she shivered. The world seemed a lot different now. A whisper hung in her heart, a sly voice that nudged at her. Remake it all, it said. Remake it in your own image. Her mind whirled, and tears came, though whether it was from grief or hope she could not tell.

A seed had been planted in her soul. A seed she knew that would do nothing but sprout and grow from here on in. 


	35. Challenges

Chapter 34

Cyle felt himself be shoved to the ground, his knees skidding through the mud as the jungle sun beat down on him relentlessly. With a quick shake of his head to ease the pain in his neck and a melodramatic expulsion of breath that he hoped would convey his displeasure, the King of Hyrule glared up at his captors. Along with his men, Cyle had been marched into the jungle by the Islanders. Letting the curve of the shore fall away behind them, the tall, thick-set and – in Cyle's opinion – ugly inhabitants of the Island of the Gate had offered no explanation as to their capture, despite the King's constant demands. He did not know them, but he hated them with a venom that pulsed in his veins and lingered in his mouth. Cyle had no more patience for the continuous interruptions in his path and he longed for a sword to slay them all.

With a sharp glance behind him, the King saw his men watching him with fearful expressions that only fuelled his ire further. They should be baring their teeth like warriors, not cowering like children. Chalance Vance was there too, face blank, calmly clutching on to his staff. Weaklings. All of them. He would show them some iron; show them how power was truly wielded. Hopefully it may even inspire them. At the very least, he could not seen to be weak himself in the eyes of his own men.

Cyle sprang to his feet, letting his gaze fix on the one who believed to be the leader. The man was heavily muscled like all of them, thick scars crisscrossing his face and torso like ribbons at a child's festival. Cyle let free a hiss that curled into a snarl. Words had not worked on them before, so he hoped something a little more basic might hold their attention.

The leader, deep in conversation with one of his minions, looked up. The man's huge chest heaved rhythmically as he pondered the curious actions of his prey. The few strands of hair that floated on his head flickered in the hot breeze. Once again embracing that giddy feeling he had when he felt close to a victory, Cyle chuckled, for once not letting his natural instinct to flee take hold of him.

Three strides was all it took for the leader to reach him, a wild look spinning in the man's eyes. Cyle stood his ground but swallowed, feeling his knees tremble slightly and his mind scream at him to run. There was a pause, a brief instant where the two men locked eyes as equals before a sharp jab to Cyle's lower back made him fall back to the ground with a groan. Soft, wet mud welled up between his fingers as he tried to steady himself, and the King battled the emotions within himself – the anger that begged to be released so that he could charge at someone who would dare strike him so, the fear that wondered with an icy, cold voice whether he would still be alive to see the sun set.

"I ask you once more," Cyle spat as he lifted his head. "What is the meaning of this?"

The Islander looked down at him with disinterest for a moment before turning to move away.

"Wait!" Cyle cried. "I know you understand me. I heard you speak our language." The man paused, turning his head back slightly. "Who are you people? What do you want with us?"

The Islander cocked his head to one side, as if regarding the Hylian for the very first time. Flexing his fingers lazily, he drew his sword, a large, thick blade, too heavy for most people. Cyle felt his cheek twitch in response to the action, but he kept himself still, his mind racing, trying to find an opening.

"I have wealth," the King said finally. "I would share it with you all, if you would but let me reach my destination."

A tight small crossed the man's face as he fingered the edge of his sword. He threw a glance at his fellows, some of whom chuckled in response.

"The Gatekeeper," the Islander said at last, his voice hoarse, his tongue struggling to form words from the unfamiliar language. "Wishes to have no visitors."

Slowly drawing himself back to a standing position, Cyle threw a glance at Vance. His Advisor shrugged minutely in response. "Gatekeeper?" he asked.

The large islander watched him, a sudden cool breeze stroking them like a gulp of fresh air after being plunged underwater. "We know what you seek," the man continued. "Your presence here is unwelcome."

Realising that his query had not been answered, yet still hoping to find a way through the man's armour, Cyle licked his lips before continuing, "If you know what we seek, then perhaps you know who I am?" He waited for an answer, but the other merely gazed back offering nothing. "I have power. Like I said, I have wealth. Whatever it is you want, I will give it to you." He paused to calm his agitated heart. "Just let me pass."

"The Gatekeeper will decide your fate," the other answered, his tone hardened with a sense of finality. "He wishes for you to be brought before him. He is our liege and we obey."

"Why?"

The Islander blinked, confused as to the nature of the question. "Why what?"

Cyle took in a deep breath, determined not to fail. "Why do you obey him? What does he provide for you?"

An uncertain glance passed between the leader and his fellows and Cyle felt a tremor of hope. "He knows of our ways," the man said cryptically.

"Your ways?"

Again, a hesitant look crossed the man's features as if he were unsure as to how much he should divulge. "The Gatekeeper is an ancient one. He has lived on our island for many a summer. He guards the entrance to something unspeakable, a portal of much power. My people avoided him and he avoided us. Then, just one summer ago, he approached us, seeking our aid. He foresaw your coming, saying you would bring much death and destruction. He knew of our ways, knew that we would only pledge ourselves to him if he passed one of our challenges."

Cyle's mind worked fast as he soaked in the words. Curiosity nudged at him, wanting to know the nature of this Gatekeeper, but he pushed it away. Now was not the right time. Two things had lodged in his consciousness. He addressed the first one, taking a step forward with outstretched hands. The Islanders tensed, their weapons moving into alert readiness. Cyle responded with a weapon of his own. His smile. "I am here and I have brought you no death and no destruction." He let his arm sweep around towards his men. "They were armed, yes. But not with anything more destructive than a sword. And you would not begrudge a man to carry that would you?"

The Islander tapped his fingers on his weapon, his face showing no emotion, but his actions betraying that he was deep in thought. He looked down at the bulging sack at his feet, the sack that contained all the Hylian's weapons. There were only swords there, regular blades that every adult carried. Cyle decided to move onto the second point, something familiar to such primitive cultures. "You speak of a challenge," he said, his voice gaining strength as his confidence grew. "What is the nature of this challenge?" He took another step forward, his smile still in place. This time they did not react. "Would one such as myself be permitted to take this challenge?"

The answer was instantaneous. "You would not be able to endure it," the islander said with a snort of contempt.

Cyle did not let himself lose heart. "Am I not even allowed to attempt it?"

Glancing at his companions once more, the islander pointed his sword skywards.

"A duel?" the King of Hyrule asked cautiously. It had been a while since he had tested his swordfighting skills. His bluster started to falter as nervousness set in.

"Nay," the other replied. "Look."

Cyle followed the point of the sword. High above the trees, he could make out the shapes of large birds, flying lazily in circles. Red, scaly and with long beaks, the birds were themselves the size of an average man.

"You must catch one," the man said, a sneer in his voice. "That is the challenge."

Cyle squinted, trying to see through the bright sunlight into the sky. Waves of heat sprinkled his forehead with sweat. "With arrows?"

"Nay." This time there was amusement in his voice and Cyle looked down back towards him. "With these."

One of the others threw the leader an axe, which the man caught instantly, and flung straight at the Hylian King. Cyle caught it, glad that his reflexes were still sharp, but he still felt doubt gnaw at him. "Are you insane?" he asked.

"The Gatekeeper succeeded," the large man said. "Do you accept the challenge?"

Cyle licked his lips, tasting the salty sweat there. He looked up again. The birds were not _too_ high, barely reaching above the tallest tree. He could get lucky. "I do."

There was a murmur of approval from the Islanders and a broad grinned crossed their leader's face. Cyle looked back at his own men and was heartened to see the looks of respect on their faces. One of the younger ones held up a hand. "Sire," he said.

"Yes?" Cyle answered. "Speak."

"Sire," the youngster was nervous, but eager. "I have practice in throwing axes. Let me take the challenge. I will not fail you."

Cyle noticed the muscles in the man's arms and knew that he would have the strength to throw well. But he also noticed the looks of expectation on the others' faces and could sense the stares of the Islanders.

"I appreciate your gesture," he replied, letting his voice carry to all around him. "But I would not ask one of my own to do something I would not be willing to do myself."

The young soldier's eyes widened with new-found respect and Cyle tasted satisfaction in his soul. He heard another murmur of approval from the islanders. He was winning already.

"You throw first," the large Islander said.

Cyle nodded, gripping the axe firmly in his hand. With a deep breath he looked up, watching as the birds spun above them unaware of the danger. Cyle felt the eyes of all the men rest on him. He did not let himself feel cowed. Heart thudding and eyes narrowed, he took aim. One of the crimson creatures had just perched itself atop a long branch. An easy target.

With a heave, he threw. The axe spun wildly in the air, the metal edge glinting in the sun. It snagged itself into the branches, disturbing some of the birds that flew off with panicked screeches.

A chuckle rippled around the Islanders and Cyle felt his face burn. The leader regarded him with a contemptuous look. With the briefest glance at the sky, he threw his own axe up in fluid arc. It tore through the leaves and caught one of the remaining birds in the wing. It wasn't enough to bring it down though.

"Your people must love you greatly," Cyle said quietly.

The man eyed him with a curious look before throwing him a pair of axes. "Love is not necessary to be a good leader. Only an iron fist."

"Oh, I agree," Cyle said, his eyes scanning for another bird. "But love is important as well."

He heard the other man snort. "And your people love you?"

Cyle did not reply. He found another bird and his vision tunnelled onto it. Pouring his strength into his arm, he threw with a roar. It was a better one this time, but still nowhere near as good as the Islander's. It caught the bird on the beak, stunning it. Cyle felt his heart catch with hope as the bird began to spiral downwards. But in an instant it righted itself and flew back up.

"Not a bad try," the Islander said, his tone genuine.

Cyle shrugged. "Your throw."

The man hesitated, watching the Hylian's face carefully. "You wish to be Joined to find love."

The King flinched as if stung. The words had not even been phrased as a question. He tried to speak, but did not know what to say.

"Forcing people to love you will leave you unsatisfied," the other continued, his eyes not yet leaving Cyle as he weighed an axe in his hand. "The power you seek is not as unlimited as you think."

Again, with the briefest of glances skyward, the Islander threw. The axe hummed as it spun, splitting branches and shredding leaves. It sliced through one of the bird's hides, drawing blood, but did not stick. The men watched as the bird wobbled, its eyes glazing over. But Cyle's eyes were still fixed on the axe. It froze in the air for an instant, before slowly falling back down. Straight down, towards the big man's head. Time itself slowed as the deadly blade twirled down and the King's mouth opened in shock. No one else had noticed.

He wasn't quite sure why he was doing it, but Cyle instinctively reached down for his remaining axe, took aim and threw. It collided with the falling weapon just above the other man's head. The big man flinched as sparks rained down on him. The two axes cut into a nearby tree, where they remained firmly lodged.

Silence fell. Cyle stood calmly as the islander stared at him with wide-eyed shock. All eyes were upon him once more.

"You…you saved my life," he said between breaths.

Silence reined again, and Cyle swallowed, not knowing what to say. The other Islanders gazed at him with bemusement.

"The challenge has been met," one of them murmured.

The leader spun around, growling angrily. "What did you say?"

"I said," the other replied, his tone and eyes defiant. "The challenge has been met."

"He speaks the truth," another said.

Cyle seized the opportunity. "Did the Gatekeeper ever save your life?" he said in a loud voice. "Did he care about you like I did? He promised I would bring death and destruction, but I have brought instead life and hope."

The Islander looked back at him, the conflict clear on his face from his vein pumping in his cheek. "Perhaps the Gatekeeper has not been entirely truthful," he conceded, his voice still lined with wariness.

"Perhaps," Cyle said. He stepped forward again, his smile at the ready and his hand outstretched. "Take me to him. Together we will make sure you take your rightful places as the sole rulers of this island."

There was a pause. Another cool breeze blew. Returning the smile, the islander took Cyle's hand as all around them erupted in cheers. "You have met the challenge. You are of honourable stock."

And deep inside, Cyle laughed for a long, long time.

*

"Welcome to the Temple of the Dead!"

With a flourish and a sweep of her arm, Milledra stepped aside giving Link, Zayna and Chitz a clear sight of the temple. Dead, Link mused, was an accurate description. The vegetation that ringed the ancient, crumbling ruins was grey and flat and the very air itself was oppressive and stale, like it had had the heart sucked out of it. The sun still shone and, in any other place, would have cast a pleasant glow, but here there was an eerie shimmer that seemed to push the light back.

Behind them, the other members of the Morolak tribe of the Dead waited in silence. Link stood tall, glad to have his companions with him, even the Imp. He was comforted by the weighty presence of his sword on his back, returned to him in order to fulfil Milledra's request. The Morolak woman herself stood, her piercing gaze still upon them. No, Link realised with a frown, her gaze was planted on Zayna. His apprentice had been distant these past two days, more reserved than usual. She had not spoken to him about her meeting with the Queen of the Dead and that had troubled the Hero. While he did respect her privacy, a tryst with their captor was still something momentous.

"It's more a city than a temple," Zayna said quietly. Her face was taut and her eyes hollow. Briefly, Link wondered if the atmosphere itself had done this to her, but he pushed the thought aside as being foolish. They had intended to come here anyway, a flicker of hope to cure Zayna of her power. Now she was face to face with it, it was of little wonder that she was so tense. She was probably battling her rising hopes, not wishing to pay attention to them so that she would not feel the plunge of disappointment if this was no more than a idle dream.

The Queen caught her words with a smile. "Indeed. A city from a time long ago. A _dead_ city."

It was true. Link let his eyes sweep over the scene. Collapsed pillars rested against each other stretching into the distance, and old, greying buildings stood in silence, missing walls and roofs. The main body of the temple still stood, though the windows were darkened, the pillars that guarded the entrance crumbling and covered in green-brown moss. Link sensed something in the air. Almost imperceptible, he caught the low rumble of steady breathing. Hollow and hissing.

"Is it true a Dragon rests here?" he asked, turning to Milledra.

Her smile did not fade and her amused eyes flicked over to him. "Many things call this place 'home.' I'm sure one such as you can deal with them easily though."

Link's eyes narrowed, again wondering if she knew who he was. He did not let it show though, throwing her a cocky smile.

"I'm sure," the Queen continued, her voice hinting at something. "That you will know to do the _right_ thing." And here she fixed Zayna with such an intense look that Link could not help but feel a disquieting dread. Zayna gave her a brief look, an unreadable expression on the apprentice's face. A nervous chill threatened to smother the Hero, but he steeled his mind making the doubts evaporate. He could not deal with what might be and he could not deal with the misgivings of his mind. He could only deal with the here and now. And that meant completing the double quest of freeing Zayna from her curse and helping Milledra to sink further into the swamp of her ambitions.

"Are you ready, Chitz?" he asked softly, a smile in his voice.

"Boss," the Imp answered, a quiver to his tone. "You get the Crown for the lady and I'll deal with the dragon haha!"

Link grinned, feeling buoyant. His eyes shifted to his apprentice, who nodded in return.

"Good," Milledra said in a voice that was overflowing with so much satisfaction that Link felt an angry twinge. "We will follow you at a distance. Once you have the Crown we will join you."

The Hero of Time did not respond, inwardly wondering what use this supposed crown would really be. But then, he had already come to the conclusion that the woman was utterly insane anyway. He let his fingers brush against the map hanging from his belt. The Dead had given it to him, claiming that the Freelanders had drawn it many summers ago.

The trio walked up to the door, their boots leaving their mark in the thick dust coating the ground. The rhythmic breathing grew louder and Link thought he could hear a trickle of expectation in it, though he hoped it was nothing more than his imagination. The door was constructed with cracked, thick wood that had rotted at the bottom and the sides. He thought it may turn to powder at his touch.

_Link, what's happening?_

The smile came to his face without him even realising, as did the bubble of warmth in his heart.

_We're at the Temple. We're going in._

_I'm coming. We made some new friends. We rested with them awhile. They'll be joining us._

He wanted to warn her off, to tell her to wait. Uneasy about their situation, the last thing he wanted was to have Zelda be caught up in it.

_I'm coming._ She added a force to her thought that made him realise that she would not be swayed. _The temple was always our goal. I won't be left behind after coming this far._

He capitulated, sending her a smile coated in love and gratitude. _Be careful._

You too.

Strengthened by her touch on his heart, he pushed the door open. It creaked with an echo and sucked in the air with a deep breath. The trio stepped into the main hallway, faint light from a source he could not ascertain illuminating their path. The door swung shut behind them.

"I guess they won't be following us just yet," Zayna said with a wry tone, her voice hanging in the air like breath on a cold night.

Link let his gaze slowly take in their surroundings. The floor was made of stone and dusty. Broken statues littered their path as their boots crunched on shards of shattered marble. Rotted tapestries, rich and colourful in their day, hung from the walls, watching them emotionlessly like macabre, miserable faces. Winding stairs, faded carpets still clinging to the steps, led to nowhere as the upper balconies were all smashed and useless.

A constant, patterned thud vibrated in the air like a current of water under a mountain. Link felt his skin tingle slightly, the noise reminding him of the time he had spent as a guest of Chalance Vance.

Teacher and apprentice drew their swords, a synchronised slice of metal, and stood side by side, the Imp between them, as their eyes darted left and right.

"We find the Dragon first," Link said. "Whatever is here that can aid you is more important than Milledra's useless trinket."

"Why?" Zayna replied a little too quickly, catching the Hero off guard. He looked over at her, perturbed. "There's no need for haste is there?"

Her face was contorted with a mix of emotions and again Link felt a touch of unease. Was she just trying to put things off so that she would not have to face any disappointments?

"We came here for you, Zayna," he replied. "This is what we've been travelling for." He added an edge to his voice. "This is what we lost Fran and Tyron for."

She blinked, her face still creased, but showing a glimmer of hesitation. "Yes, I know." Her voice was strained, and the Hero was puzzled. "You're right. The Dragon first." There was no passion behind her words and the hollowness in them echoed through the ancient hall. He kept his eyes on her, but she would not meet his gaze.

His lips parted to speak once more, but he was interrupted by a chill, ghostly moan that floated around them.

"Haha," Chitz said, his voice laced with fear. "Looks like someone met a Freelander."

Something shimmered in the corner of Link's eye. "Zayna! To your left!"

He felt her tense as she readied herself in a fighting stance.

"I see nothing!"

Link spun around to point out the threat when something cold and clammy hit him on the side of the head. His vision contracted for an instant and he fell. Rolling with it, he kept his blade flat against the chest, listening to it clank on the ground. He kipped-up to his feet, and swung defensively, his eyes searching for his friends.

They were gone.

He felt himself frown. "Zayna? Chitz?"

The moan returned, louder now as did the breathing, a sense of amusement ringing through it. Images floated at the corner of his eyes, figures of pale light that floated in and out of reality. He twirled on his heels to face them, but every time they would shift just at the right moment, always managing to keep out of his sight. He felt a surge in his heart, a wave of worried encouragement from his wife, who knew enough not to ask questions that would only distract him.

Link gritted his teeth, grateful for her presence. It sharpened his mind and cleared his thoughts. He focused, letting his senses track his unseen enemies. Something tickled the air behind him, a miniscule breath on his back. He spun, planting himself for a surer footing and letting his sword swing in a wide arc towards –

"Zayna!"

His attack froze and the backwash of energy from the swing rippled up his arms, making them tremble. The apprentice stared at him with a wide grin, her eyes wide, but hollow. Something was wrong. He did not lower his sword.

"What happened…?" he asked.

A spark ignited in her eyes and Link saw the intent there for the briefest of moments. He swung his sword up as her own blade curved down in a screaming cut. The twin foils caught in the air and the Hero pushed back, gritting his teeth. His eyes widened as his apprentice seemed to fold from the blow, her body curving and shimmering. This was not Zayna.

He pushed again, one foot slipping against the ground. And then the floor fell away.

Link tumbled, still having enough presence of mind to hold onto his weapon, as his panicked eyes watched the tunnel of rock spin around him. His heart lurched, knowing that if there was nothing soft to break his fall, he would shatter. Pushing Zelda's frantic thoughts from his mind with a declaration of love, he braced himself.

He tried to peer downwards, but he could not focus. Reaching out for the wall only resulted in a cut hand as the sharp edges of rock refused any request for assistance.

Cold air cut at his face and then he flinched as he crashed into icy water, filling his mouth and lungs with foul tasting liquid. Murky darkness pulled him down, but he resisted, kicking with his feet and pushing himself up. He saw the dreamy light of the outside world above him and willed himself to reach for it, his lungs and eyes burning as the diminishing air dizzied his mind.

Link broke the surface with a wheezy gasp, swallowing gulps of air that tasted sweeter than honey to his stretched throat. He dragged himself to the pool's edge, his silver armour now heavy with water. Letting his fingers dig into the dirt, he waited, wanting to still his heart and clear his mind. The Hero looked around him, and saw that he was in a small alcove. A few shards of rock tumbled through the hole in the aftermath of his fall, splashing into the water below. He glanced up, realising it would be too far to climb, even with a hookshot.

The map was useless now. And he did not know what had happened to his friends.

There was only one exit from the room, and rusted, iron bars blocked the path. He peered through, seeing the glow of a torch in the distance. Something pricked at his mind. He had faced this test before.

Taking a step back, he pulled his bow from his back, and readied an arrow. He aimed the steel tip for the flame. Briefly, his mind wandered back to the first time he had had to do this very same thing. He had been relatively untrained, and had wasted a lot of arrows with his nervous shots. Sometimes, before his 'rebirth', he had felt a glimmer of anger at whatever had chosen him to be the Hero. Fate, or whatever, had decided that he would learn everything on his own, with very little guidance. But now he put his trust in that same higher power, accepting his role. His arm was steady and his aim good.

Arm jerking from the recoil, he watched the arrow spin through the gap in the bars and hiss as it cut through the burning torch. It hit the far side of the wall with a click. Just as he had expected.

With a rumble, the bars lifted slowly, the ancient mechanism groaning and shuddering from the effort. Replacing the bow with his sword, he stepped through, spying the switch that now had his burning arrow lodged firmly within it. He followed the tunnel as it veered to the left, his mind barely noticing the broken, yellowing skulls that grinned up at him from the floor. The breathing was louder now and the air shifted in time with it, one minute cool, the next minute hot and smelling of sulphur. It reminded him vaguely of Death Mountain, and he wondered if the dragon was a kin to Volvagia, the serpent that had once rested there.

The tunnel widened out into another hallway with a polished marble floor. An immense banquet table stood at the centre, blackened and diseased food laying on plates as dirty-white skeletons slumped in the chairs. At the head of the table, sat a large corpse dressed in a red, silk robe, now patterned with moth-eaten holes. Clearly, a dignitary of some stature. Link noticed that its head was bare, the Crown of Mourning obviously resting elsewhere.

The Hero waited, tensing his fingers. He knew what was coming as he stepped into the hall. The door slammed down shut behind him with a soft growl, and the only other exit, at the far end of the room, grew iron bars that blocked that path. Link nodded, testing the air with his emerald blade.

He heard a scratching, then a faint tremor. Two Stalfos warriors sprouted from the floor, their eye-sockets glowing with malice. Link licked his lips, waiting for the attack. They usually struck one by one. Usually.

They swung their blades in synchronisation and Link fell back, surprised, but not hurt. Holding his sword with one hand, he waited as they approached. Again, they attacked together. With his free hand, the Hero unlatched his hookshot and fired, splintering one of them into bones, while his sword arm swung through the other. It fell back, stunned, but threw itself forward in another attack. The sword sliced Link's hand, making him drop his hookshot. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he ducked as another slice came, then plunged his blade through the warrior's armour. As it collapsed, he picked up the hookshot and watched as the iron bars covering the exit lifted.

Making his way around the banquet table, Link headed towards the door. And the floor fell away again, making him slide to a halt. Bubbling molten lava now lay between him and the door. Six stone blocks stood in the shimmering liquid heat, the only pathway to the exit. Quickly, Link scanned the far wall and realised it was too smooth for a hookshot to grab onto.

No wonder Milledra had sent him in on this quest. He wondered how many she had lost trying to get to the Crown. He readjusted his opinion on the goal itself too. Someone obviously thought the Crown was worth a lot to have gone to all this trouble to have constructed this building.

Link looked down at the blocks. He only needed to use three of them to get to the door. But which three? He paced, noticing that the ones on the left were bathed in a soft light. A sign? But would the architects have made it so obvious? Then it had to be the ones on the right, the left being too obvious and a trick for the simple-minded.

Or perhaps they knew someone like you would think that and made the obvious path the correct path.

Link smiled as Zelda's voice came to him.

_This is why you have the Triforce of Wisdom, I suppose?_

_I suppose,_ she responded with a smile. _But now its time to put your Triforce of Courage to good use and make the leap._

The Hero of Time steadied himself, coiling his muscles with extra energy so that he would be able to jump back if he made the wrong choice. He hoped that it would be enough. His eyes honed in on the first block, his mind quickly calculating the distance. The lava sighed with heat, and Link ignored the memories they brought back. With a thrill of anticipation, he hopped then jumped to the left.

His boots hit the stone and it rocked slightly, but there were no other ill effects. Holding out his arms to steady himself, he looked ahead. Link jumped to the next one and still it held. His eyes fell to the last block, noticing it was more brightly lit than the others.

_Are you wondering what I am wondering?_ he asked.

_You_ **know** _what I'm wondering!! _she replied

Link grinned and jumped to the _right_. It shook, but held, waves of heat curling around his legs. The Hero leapt onwards to the door.

The next chamber was empty, save for a shaft of light illuminating a stone column. On top of the pillar rested a dull, silver crown, bent in some places, scratched in others. A movement caught Link's eye.

"Boss!"

Chitz the Imp emerged from the other side of the room, Zayna running after him with a grin. The Hero smiled with relief as he caught up to them.

"How did you…?" he asked, but was cut off as he saw Milledra and the Dead appear from the shadows. The Morolak woman's eyes gleamed with hungry greed. In a flash, Link had his hookshot in his hand again. He aimed at the crown and fired. It pierced the metal and the column erupted in flame, making the Queen of the Dead scream. With a flick of a switch, the Hero recalled the chain, letting the crown drop to the floor. He stamped on it to put out the flames.

Gingerly, he picked it up, still feeling the heat through his fingers. Link looked up, noticing Milledra heaving with rage, her lips quivering and her eyes striking him with a poisonous look. The Dead bristled, their weapons ready in shaking hands. He knew how they would react. Like children. And like children he knew they would not be able to outthink his next request.

"Give it to me!" the Queen of the Dead shrieked, her voice already hoarse. "It's mine!"

"No," Link said calmly. "Now it's _mine._"

Milledra hissed at the words, but he continued, unperturbed. "We have a Dragon to slay," he said, pausing to let his words sink in. "And you and your men are going to help. Then, you're going to give my friends and myself safe passage out of this temple. If you refuse or if you try and harm us," and here he curled his hand around one of crown's spikes, bending it. "Then you won't see your precious crown ever again."

The Dead hesitated, their eyes on their Queen. Her face turned scarlet, humiliated and angered. Her lips curling, she opened her mouth to speak.

And with an otherworldly howl, the Dragon burst through the floor.


	36. Moment of Truth

Chapter 35

Malon pushed aside the bush as she crouched on the crest of a hill, her heart feeling a tremor as the sight of the Gate revealed itself far below. Her eyes remained fixed on the ancient portal, ignoring the fiery climate that would have irritated her at any other time. Bizarre sounds wafted up from the undergrowth beneath, revealing the presence of strange creatures that, somewhere at the back of her mind, she might have wished to have studied further. But now her mind and vision remained focus on the Gate itself, a tall wooden structure, blackened by age and rot, held in place by pillars of grey rock. A platform covered the top of the Gate, wide enough so that four people could stand there. At the centre of the platform, a small hole waited. The opening was the point where the Key's blood was to be released. The Gate was, she thought, almost unremarkable. She had expected something a lot more grandiose, but it appeared to be no more than a silent sentinel, carved into the rock with the most basic of construction, watching the jungle impassively.

She sensed something in the air, a faint, metallic taste of power that radiated off of the Gate and resonated deep within her soul. It frightened her. Nothing else seemed to be disturbed by the wooden portal though, as thick vines grew up around it, and the red, leathery birds native to the island perched on top of it with lazy crouches. Her melancholy returned, heavier now, as she realised that at the end of this day her task would be done and Death would embrace her once more. She struggled to still her mind as it protested against the injustice of it all. She would play her part and exit. There was nothing else for her to do.

Malon heard a jingle, like the sound of a maiden wearing too many bangles lifting her arm, and saw the glowing shape of Navi appear at the corner of her vision. Lorfor was not far behind her, his face fighting to wear a smile, despite Malon knowing of the despair he tried to keep buried down because of the loss of his friend. They had left her Helpers, monks dedicated to her service, which still made her feel somewhat awkward, back on their ship. 

"Where's Link? Where's Link?" Navi asked, her light voice fluttering with excitement.

Malon felt her heart churn at the mention of his name. "He'll be here soon enough," she said calmly. "Though he doesn't know he's coming yet." She smiled, letting her cryptic words float in the air, but the little faerie did not press her any further. Which was all well and good, because Malon did not honestly expect any of them to meet the Hero of Time.

Lorfor fell to his knees besides her, breathing heavily with a reddened face. "This is a far cry from Lon Lon," he said, trying to smile.

She nodded with a gentle laugh. "It _is_ quite hot, isn't it?" 

"Hot?" he answered, his voice incredulous. "Dear, the Pit itself would not blaze as fiercely as this place!"

Malon grinned, as the Gate caught her attention again.

"Is this it?" Lorfor continued, his soft voice catching with awe. "Is this the Gate?"

The Counter Key sighed, her smile melting into a tight line. "It is."

She was grateful for his presence. He had managed to ease her loneliness somewhat, had managed to keep her mind focused when, otherwise, it may have turned inward and begun to brood. He had carried her supplies without complaint, despite the fact the climate clearly did not agree with him. Still. She no longer needed him now. All that was left was to await the Key. 

Malon turned to the old man. "Thank you," she said.

He looked back at her, his face betraying the fact that he realised the implication beneath her words. "This is the burden of being so old," he said with a sigh. "I get to watch all my friends depart."

She could offer him no response to that. She wished that she could take away the burdens of his pain, and she realised that, despite her supposed great power, she was of little use in fixing something as simple as this. The vegetation near the Gate swayed, catching her eye.

"What do we do now?" Lorfor asked.

"We wait," Malon replied grimly as Cyle and his men appeared from the undergrowth. "The Key will be here soon. Everything is falling into place."

                                                                                                                *

"Magnificent, Vance," Cyle said, looking up at the Gate. "Don't you think so?"

He glanced over at his Advisor. The sorcerer was trembling, despite the heat and his face was paler than usual, an untypical expression of humility etched therein. Vance placed one hand on the Gate, swallowing as he closed his eyes. Somehow Cyle found the action irritating. His Advisor needed to remember who exactly was to be Joined here.

"Indeed, Sire," Vance croaked. "Truly magnificent."

Cyle looked around at the others. His men had their swords again and had regained a measure of their swagger. The Islanders watched him in silence, their powerful arms folded across their chest. He watched them as his mouth curled in contempt. Time to reward them for their stupidity.

"Vance," he called, his voice ringing out in a strong tone. "End this charade."

"As you wish," the Advisor replied, his own voice echoing the satisfaction the King felt within. 

Cyle grinned as confused looks creased across the Islanders' faces. Chalance Vance raised his staff and, in an instant, the sky tore as a portal opened. The King wanted to laugh as the bewilderment the Islanders' shared turned to angry and hurt betrayal. Morolak soldiers fell through the opening, the sky spilling out warriors like a heavy and dark rain cloud letting loose torrents of water.

It was not long before the valley in front of the Gate was swarming with heavily armoured troops, their boots crushing the plants beneath and snapping through branches as some fell into uncomfortable spots in the jungle. Cyle's grin grew wider as he surveyed his new army, ready and waiting for his command. Grins and blades flashed back at him. There was not long for him to wait now, and his heart throbbed at the thought.

"What is the meaning of this?" the leader of the Islanders' called in protest. They huddled around one another, seething with rage, but also cautious with fear.

Before Cyle could reply, another voice, old and wizened, cut through the air. "Death and destruction. He brings death and destruction just as I told you."

The King spun around to face the newcomer, but almost slipped in shock as his eyes came to rest on the man's face.

"Gatekeeper," the large Islander murmured. "Forgive us."

The Gatekeeper approached, a tall, but thin man, clad in a tattered green tunic. His hair was dull and grey with age. His skin was withered, deep cracks lining it like dry riverbeds. And yet, Cyle recognised him. Or thought he did.

"Link?!" 

The Gatekeeper fixed him with a humourless smile. "Not exactly," he said. "Not in the way you mean. I am the last of the Links. Sent back to guard this Gate as penance for my deeds."

Cyle blinked, not entirely understanding his words. "Last of the Links?" he asked, noticing that Vance was taking a keen interest in the newcomer.

"It matters not to you," the Gatekeeper replied, coughing between his words. "I am not who you think I am, despite my appearance. All that is important is that I have failed. You have brought yourself and your army here." He looked over at the Islanders, making them bow their heads in shame under his piercing stare. "And I was unable to prevent it."

"Indeed," Cyle growled, his confidence returning. He flicked his head at his warriors and they surrounded both the Gatekeeper and the Islanders with swords drawn. The old man that looked so much like Link gazed from side to side, his shoulders sagging with defeat. Both he and his Islander army were outnumbered and he knew it. Cyle reached for his sword. He may not be entirely sure about the nature of this man, but he knew there was a tiny glimmer of satisfaction he could draw from him.

Cyle strode up to the Gatekeeper, who held his gaze with crystal blue eyes.

"It seems," the old man said, as one lonely tear fell down his face. "That my sins were too much for me to gain redemption."

"Your sins include stealing my wife from me," the King spat, readying his blade into position.

"That was nothing to do with me, Cyle," the Gatekeeper replied, his voice eerily calm. Cyle found himself feeling irritated at the man's use of his first name. "But I do know that Zelda never truly loved you."

Cyle felt the anger spring up from within. "Liar!" he growled. "I do not know who you are. Perhaps you're a relative of Link's, or perhaps you had the misfortune to share in his features. But you know nothing about what went on between my wife and I."

The Gatekeeper stared back, one corner of his mouth curling. "Sometimes it takes a stranger to see something clearly that those closer may have missed," he said. His eyes grew hard. "You're nothing but a failure, Cyle Narawan."

The King of Hyrule swung his sword, striking the Gatekeeper through the neck. Cyle laughed as he watched Link's head fly, a trail of blood following it in the air. He heard the Islanders cry out and raised his hand dismissively. He did not even have to face them to hear the swords of his warriors strike them down.

Cyle almost doubled over in laughter. At long last, he had managed to slay the man he hated with such intense ferocity. His soul surged with cathartic glory. One corner of his mind reminded him that the Gatekeeper was not the real Link, but he dismissed it. It was a small victory, and, like a rolling Goron gathering moss, his triumphs could only grow from now.

"Vance…?"

He did not have to say anymore. The sorcerer raised his staff and Cyle saw an image flitter into view in the orb. An image of a Dragon.

"I will bring the Key to you, Sire," said Chalance Vance. "I will bring her now."

                                                                                                               *

Zelda ran through the twisting corridors of the Temple of the Dead, the sloped and broken walls lined with torn portraits reminding her of a gloomy version of Hyrule Castle. Chizan, Tessa, the Freelander woman, Nadline and the Morolak man, Salin were all at her heels. She had been surprised at how quickly the duo had bonded. They had stayed with them for a day, resting, sharing stories and eating simple meals. The boy that the woman had injured had readily forgiven her, wanting to claim the action as a 'Heroic Deed', something that had irked his Morolak father greatly.

Zelda had not wanted the them to join her, Chizan and Tessa, but when Salin had mentioned that he knew a quicker path to the Temple they had had no choice but to accept. Even then, she did not want them to enter into the building, but they had stubbornly protested. When they had learned that she was wanting to slay a Dragon, they had been anxious to aid her, not wanting her to come to any harm after all she had done for them. Still, she did not want any harm to come to _them_ either.

They had ably guided them to the Temple and now she was leading the party towards Link, letting his presence be a beacon telling her which paths to take. Chizan had muttered some suspicions about the nature of her knowledge, but had been distracted by the many creatures that had attacked them on their way in. Zelda had been amused, and slightly relieved too, to watch the Prince as he fought off any monsters that had dared to come too close to Tessa. 

Slowing her pace, Zelda turned to face Salin. "Please," she said. "Promise you'll go back as soon as we find the Dragon. No more heroics." She gave Nadline a pointed glance as she said this.

Salin sighed. "At least let us wait and see what is to come," he said. "You don't know whether you may still need us."

"I agree," the Freelander woman added in a steely tone. 

For one absurd moment, Zelda bitterly wished that she would finally meet with some cowards who would meekly do anything that she said. Dryly, she realised, that she had been married to one for over five summers. Perhaps he had not been a dutiful husband, but Cyle had certainly been a cowardly one.

Spinning to a stop, she opened her mouth to protest when phantom arms poured out of the walls and grabbed for Tessa. Instantly, they all moved with easy familiarity, their weapons poised for an attack.

It was the Prince who moved the quickest though. He skidded to a stop in front of the farmgirl, watching as her wide eyes pleaded with him for help. The phantoms had ghostly powers, but were still physical creatures that could be hurt and cut. Purple eyes smouldering with anger, Chizan cut at the creature with two quick strikes. With a shriek it let go, and Tessa fell forward from the momentum, straight into the Freelander's arms.

He wrapped her with his embrace and she peered up at him with frightened, but grateful eyes. He grinned.

"Thank you," she breathed. She smiled, an audacious twinkle in her eye. "That was wonderful swordplay."

Zelda wanted to laugh as she saw Tessa turn purple and Chizan's open mouthed, confused expression. 

She jerked as a ripple of shock from Link hit her. Tessa and Chizan looked up at her, concern in their eyes.

"Your Highness…?" the farmgirl asked.

"It's Link," Zelda said, trying to focus and make sense of the emotions washing over her. "I think he's found the Dragon." She turned and began to run, not waiting for the others. "Let's go!"

                                                                                                                     *

The ground shook as the Dragon swung its head from side to side, leaving a trail of flame smouldering in the air. Like liquid tar in appearance, the serpent watched them with dark eyes, its tail, lined with glassy scales, curling around itself in anticipation. Link watched as the Dead cowered in one corner, Milledra's pale face reflecting the shock he himself felt. The Dragon's massive bulk engulfed the room, the heat radiating off of it assaulting them with the taste and scent of ash.

"We…we were meant to slay that?" Zayna gasped. 

Link swallowed, gripping his sword more tightly, not knowing what to say. Something pricked at his consciousness, and his eyes found Zelda just as she ran through one of the doorways. She stopped short, her mouth hanging open, as Chizan, Tessa and two others that Link did not recognise collided into her. Tearing her sight away from the beast, she sought him out and they smiled, scared, but happy, as their eyes locked. They almost knocked each other back as they sent twin waves of reassurance to one another.

The Dragon shifted its position, its yellow talons gouging into what was left of the floor. Its eyes turned towards the huddled Dead and Link saw Milledra's face flick over to him for a moment, her expression pleading. There was a pause; the muscles in the Dragon's neck coiling with energy, before it snapped forward, biting one of the Dead clean in two, sending a fountain of blood spraying into the air.

The Morolaks scattered, screaming as they waved their swords uselessly. The Hero of Time felt a righteous ember of anger ignite in his heart and he chided himself for not acting more swiftly. In that instant, Link moved, sheathing his sword as confidence surged through him. His hookshot was ready and firing already. He felt the familiar sense of  being tugged into the air, the dizzying heat tugging at the fear he pushed down within. The wind buffeted him with acidic ferocity. 

With a roar, the Dragon lunged again, and, in one instant where the world seemed frozen in an orange haze, Link peered into the beast's maw, seeing the flames roaring within. The serpent's neck caught on the hookshot's chain, and Link spun, out of control, around and around the creature's throat, winding in closer and closer. Link grit his teeth, desperate to stay conscious as the world twirled and the heat battered his skull.

Hold on 

Zelda's voice soothed him and he felt her reach for her bow and let loose a trio of arrows. He sensed that Zayna had caught up to her and was reaching for her own weapon too. There was a flicker of doubt in his wife's mind, in response to another presence, and he took it to mean that Milledra was with them as well.

The Dragon's scaly and cracked skin loomed larger and larger in his vision until he smacked straight into it. He clutched into the neck, slumping his head as he tried to regain his composure. Everything was still spinning and he felt almost nauseous. The beast had not stopped either, and Link shut his eyes tight, wishing for some stability, hoping that there would be no more motion to unsettle his mind.

Slowly he reached back for his sword, dimly aware that he had to kill the Dragon. Screams and shouts floated up from the ground, and the soot-filled smoke that pumped from the creature's mouth clung to the air. The Dragon lurched again and Link had to throw his arms around its neck, his stomach rising and head whirling, as it fluidly flicked downwards taking another shrieking Morolak into its jaws.

Link wasted no more time. Steeling himself against his aching head, he felt for the comforting touch of the hilt of his sword. Drawing the weapon, he held it in both hands above the Dragon's neck, the jade blade in sharp contrast to the swirling murkiness. The serpent snapped its head around. Link froze, shrinking back from the whirlpool of darkness in the beast's eyes, reminding him faintly of the Demon Riders. Zelda pushed at him with her mind, shutting his fear away.

He raised the blade, focusing on the sharp tip and looking down at the rough, aged skin below. His mind raced ahead, wondering exactly how the death of the Dragon would aid his apprentice. It could be, he mused, that the creature's demise would open up a new path like in his many experiences with dungeons such as this. He plunged the sword down. At the very last moment, a flash caught his eye and a spinning dagger rammed into his weapon, the force making him lose his balance. Link found himself upside down, hanging onto the Dragon's neck by his legs. 

The world swam beneath him, the people below insect-like in their scurrying. Link tried to reach for Zelda, but she was distracted and he felt her as she weaved in and out between the Dragon's clawed feet, sending up arrows into the creature's thick hide. Something nudged at him, making him wonder briefly about the dagger that had toppled him. He could have sworn that Zayna had a similar weapon herself. 

There was no time to ponder though as the sharp jerks of the Dragon tugged Link from side to side. His heart swelled as the serpent swooped again, bringing the Hero's head far too close to the ground below. His hookshot hung uselessly beneath him, banging against the Dragon's skin as the creature moved for another attack. The serpent had to be slain, regardless of his well being and he kicked at it with his heel, hoping to release his hidden dagger that he was planning to use against the Dead had they taken his weapons again. It was foolish, he realised, to believe that his small blade could harm the creature in any way, but he had to try.

Frustration gnawed at him as the heel of his boot stayed firmly in place. He relaxed, letting his mind try to reach another solution.

Realising that if he hung in his position for too long he would make himself ill, Link let his fingers curl around the taut chain of his hookshot, still wrapped tightly around the creature's neck. He let his legs swing free and he hung by the chain, his feet now kicking at the air.

Relief flooded through him. This felt a lot better than before. He was still on the verge of death, he mused dryly, but at least now he was the right way up.

The Dragon threw back its head and roared, the vibration running through Link's arms. It swung its massive bulk around, tugging the hookshot's spike free from the wall that it had been embedded in. The Hero of Time barely had a moment to acknowledge the action before the chain started to unwrap like a thread from a wooden spool. He plummeted to the ground; the grey stone of the floor rushing up to meet him.

Something rammed into him before he hit, the impact knocking the wind out of him. His shoulder scuffed the floor, sending shooting pains up his arm and neck. He rolled along the ground, still entwined with whatever had struck him. Looking up, Link caught the glow of purple eyes, before Chizan's face came clearly into view. They sat up, out of breath, but still managing to grin at one another. Link felt a little sore from the rescue, but was relieved nonetheless. With a press of a button, the hookshot's chain snaked itself back into its home with a whirr.

The Hero of Time moved to speak, the gratitude in his heart wanting to form on his tongue, when a sudden cry rang out. Chizan froze, his head spinning around, as Link recognised Tessa's panicked voice. They sprung to their feet, just in time to see the Dragon's tail wrap itself around Zayna and Tessa. Milledra was there too and she found herself an unwilling companion to their two friends. Zelda had ducked just in time, rolling to safety. Her eyes looked up, swimming with fear, as she waited for Link and the Prince to run up to her.

Two others joined her side too, a Morolak man and a Freelander woman that Link did not recognise. Zelda got to her feet, as the air shook above them. Unfurling black, leathery wings, the Dragon began flapping, screaming with satisfaction as it rose. 

Link felt the thought form in his mind just as Zelda spoke the words.

"Wherever it is taking Zayna, we have to go too," she said in a grim tone.

"But of course," Chizan said with a grin.

Zelda turned to her other two companions. "This isn't your battle. You don't have to join us."

"We would aid you," the woman replied as the Morolak nodded.

"You've helped enough," Zelda said with a smile. "Live your lives now. Stay true to what I judged."

Link remained silent, not wishing to interfere in something that was not his concern. He knew that his wife would tell him about it later. A sense of urgency bit at him as he thought the words. If there was a later. He felt a stirring in his soul as Zelda acknowledged his concerns. A small shape darted from the shadows, slipping between their feet, before scampering up Link's back to perch itself on his shoulder. The shape was carrying his sword.

"Chitz," Link said with a laugh, gratefully taking his weapon from the Imp's tiny hands.

"Haha," Chitz replied. "You didn't think I'd let you go fight with just the Freelander to help, did you? Haha. I didn't think you were that stupid!"

"Let us go," Chizan said, irritation lacing his voice. "The serpent leaves."

They ran as Zelda's companions watched them. Reluctantly they nodded at the Queen, quickly giving her their thanks for her help.

Milledra screamed from within the Dragon's grip and Link smiled as he heard Zayna tell the Queen the Dead to silence herself in a sharp voice. The beast had reached the ceiling now, but its feet and tail were still within their reach. With a glance to his wife and the Prince, Link felt his heart strengthen, glad that he was with such company. They all knew what to do without having to say a word. He swallowed away the taste of unease he felt at the prospect at having to ride the Dragon again.

They leapt, their nails digging into the Dragon's skin as their hands caught hold on to its tail. With a final roar, the serpent pushed upwards, tearing through the roof of the temple in a cloud of dust and rock that rained down on the remaining members of the Dead. The cold wind stung their skin and scattered their hair as they held on. The Dragon curled slowly into the sky, like the rising of a dark sun. It paused for an instant, throwing back its head to let loose a scream that chilled all that heard it and throwing a column of flame into the air. It then banked sharply to one side, its wings creaking with the effort. Catching itself on the wind, the serpent turned towards its intended target and flew as the six that clung on were rocked from side to side.

                                                                                                                    *

Despite her husband's attempts to soothe her, Zelda was terrified. It did not help that she could also fear his too, like a tiny vibration in the corner of his heart. He kept it well hidden, but she knew it was there, though she was heartened by the strength she felt within him as he struggled to control it. It was only natural that they would be scared.

Keeping her head low and gripping onto the Dragon's tail until she split the hardened skin, Zelda had to fight to catch her breath, a combination of the intense speed and her rising awe making it difficult to breathe. The wind swept against her, chilling her face and making her cloak flap violently. The world below spun past her at a dizzying pace, green seas, golden-brown deserts, enclaves of tiny huts and a myriad of other sights melting in and out of her vision before she had a chance to really focus on them.

She felt something fall away from one of the pouches of her tunic. A flash of gold winked at her, and Zelda realised that she had just lost the golden star-shaped pendant that the Morolak Duchess had given her so long ago. It was for her safe passage in the Morolak Kingdom. Now she had a Dragon to do that, whether she wanted it to or not. Regret tugged at her as she remembered how eager Toriya had been to show Zelda the beauty of her land. She wondered where the Morolak lady was now, but shook the thoughts way, needing to concentrate on more pressing matters.

It was an effort for her just to turn her head, but she managed it. She searched Zayna out and when her eyes found her, the Queen of Hyrule almost let go from fright. Link's apprentice had managed to squeeze herself out from the Dragon's grip, holding onto the tail with her hands, just like the three of them. Zelda saw that Tessa, her face contorted in fear, was pulling herself out too, though Zayna had not noticed.

Zelda searched her old Advisor's face, noticing the haunted look that laid there. Their eyes locked and Zelda felt a tremor of alarm within. Something was terribly wrong. Zayna gazed back  impassively, though her eyes had the iron look of determination about them. She was intending something, but the Queen could not place exactly what.

The heat of the sun increased and the Dragon swooped down towards a tiny mist-covered island. Zelda swallowed, knowing exactly what the island was, despite never having seen it before. She wondered why the creature was taking them there, and felt Link's confusion as he pondered over that very same notion. A glimmer of movement made Zelda turn her head back, and her mouth fell open as she saw Zayna struggling to keep her balance as she crouched, ready to jump.

Their eyes met again, and this time the apprentice shot her a warning in her stare.

"I will set things right, Your Highness," Zayna called, her words sounding weak in the wind. "You'll see. Everything will be alright in the end."

Confusion and fear fought for dominance in Zelda's mind as Zayna's face, a mix of hope and crazed desperation etched therein, burned itself into her consciousness. Zelda wanted to reach out, to cry for her to stop, but could not find the strength. The landscape blurred beneath them, but she felt the Dragon shift in speed. The trees came into focus as they slowed and then, suddenly, there it was.

The Gate stood with an almost regal air, a large crowd gathered at its base. All eyes turned towards the primeval construction and Zelda shared the sense of foreboding that she could taste in Link's thoughts. A figure stood at the top of the Gate, crimson robes billowing in the wind and she knew it to be Chalance Vance.

There was little time to waste. Whatever Zayna was planning was clearly wrong. Zelda pulled herself across the Dragon's skin, the revulsion rising within her as the cracked skin peeled off with her every motion. Her face tight while she focused on her old friend, she desperately fought against the push of the wind as they neared the Gate. 

It was too late. Zayna saw her and Zelda saw the spark of alarm in her eyes. The Dragon slowed until the wind dropped to a breeze, slowly curving over the top of the Gate. Link's apprentice fixed her with a stare, then calmly let her hands free of the serpent.

"I will set things right," she whispered as she fell away.

"No!" Zelda reached forward in a useless gesture, feeling the tide of despair rising in her heart. 

In an instant, the wind shifted again and Zelda felt the Triforce symbol on her hand tingle. Her puzzlement turned to shock as a gust caught Tessa and threw her off the creature, letting her fall in a spin directly behind Zayna.

Zelda heard Chizan's cry of fear, but there was no time to for her to respond to it. The Dragon gained speed once more, and it straightened itself like an arrow as it screamed in towards the ground. Zelda felt a surge of love from Link and she responded in kind, both of them hoping to shield the other from pain as they realised what was about to happen.

The Queen of Hyrule grit her teeth and shut her eyes tight as the Dragon ploughed into the earth.

                                                                                                               *

"Your friends are dead," Chalance Vance said quietly, watching the dust settle from the Dragon's impact. He felt a thrill of eagerness tremble through his body, and he could taste his triumph in his mouth. The light faded as the sun began to set and the sorcerer threw a glance down at his liege, swallowing as he saw the large throng of armed soldiers standing ready. The King nodded up at him and Vance had to keep him self from laughing. They had decided that the sorcerer should wait atop the Gate, so that he could release the Key's blood while Cyle charged into the Sacred Realm from below. Vance snorted at the King's stupidity. Cyle may have thought he had shown some intelligence by tricking the dim-witted Islanders, but Chalance Vance had never been remotely worried. He would have just turned the power of his staff onto them as soon as they had led them to the Gate. Soon, he would be rid of the fool and soon he would be rid of the entire Terrestrial Realm. He felt the tingle of disgust under his skin – how had he managed to stay in this unclean place for so long?

He turned away from the mass of men below, reaching for his belt as he hoped to see the terror on the Key's face when he brought forth his silver, curved dagger. The hilt was encrusted with pearls and it had lain unused, waiting for this very moment. The sight that greeted him made him step back in surprise.

Zayna stood above the hole, one arm bare, while her free hand gripped a blade of her own. Fear danced on her face, but her eyes burned with resolve. The farmgirl lay crouching behind her, whimpering as events caught up to her. 

The Key looked quickly from side to side, pale red-gold sunlight illuminating her face as she studied her surroundings. "I did not expect the Gate to be as mundane as this," she said.

Vance ignored her words. His eyes narrowed and he began to pace, not entirely sure of the Key's intent. He had to be careful. Haste at this critical juncture could lead to disaster. He watched her as he felt the breeze tug at his robe. "What trickery is this?" he asked in a cautious voice.

"No trickery, Vance," she replied with a growl. "I've decided that neither you nor the King deserve to be Joined." She paused and the sorcerer guessed what was coming next. "I've decided that that honour belongs to me alone."

Chalance Vance's lips curled with a mixture of amusement and anger. At any other time, watching a person rot their own soul through their own actions would have been delicious, but not now. Not when he was so close. Still. He could not help but let his curiosity goad him on.

"And how did you come to this conclusion?" he said, taking a step towards her. She did not notice.

"Well," she said, her voice raw. There was still a conflict on her face, a hesitation that betrayed the fact that she was not entirely certain about her actions. "It seems to me that this nightmare will only end if you get what you want and if I die." She swallowed, sniffing away tears that had just come to her eyes, unbidden. "I would very much like to keep living. I think the only way I could do that is by truly fulfilling my purpose. Yes, I'm the Key. And I will be Joined. And when I am, I'll bring all my friends back. I'll bring my family back." Her voice grew as the emotion took her. Vance gripped his staff. "And I'll make sure creatures like you and Cyle will cease to exist."

"Zayna, don't talk this way," the farmgirl moaned in a quiet voice. 

"Quiet!" the Key snapped, turning her eyes away from Vance from in an instant. The sorcerer grinned, raising his staff and watching the orb perched atop it begin to glow. 

She turned back to him, her knife resting against the trembling folds of skin on her arm. "You hear me, Vance?" she said as her breath grew shallow. "The world will never see the likes of you again." She flipped the blade up and pulled back her arm. "Because before I open the Gate, you're going to _die!_"

She threw the knife and it whirled through the air in a silvery blur. Vance stood, unmoved, thrusting the staff forward as a liquid flash of energy licked out from within it, swallowing the blade before it could reach him.

"I beg to differ," he snarled with a grin.

Zayna screamed in rage and leapt at him, her eyes wild with an insane gleam. He stepped out of her path and brought the staff down on her back with a crack. Somewhere behind him he heard the farmgirl cry out, but he paid her no heed. Zayna tried to rise, her muscles tensing as she readied herself for another attack. A crackle of energy from his staff arched into her back and knocked the fight out of her.

Dragging the Key by her hair, Vance pulled her over to the hole. He peered in, seeing nothing but darkness, and smelling nothing but stale air. Letting go of his staff, he pulled his dagger free. He knew it only took a small amount of blood to open the Gate, but now that he knew of Zayna's intentions he had decided to drain her pathetic life out over the hole.

"You're a fool, woman," he said as she tried to struggle under his grasp. The staff trembled on the floor as if it were being battered by the wind as he drew his power from it. She tried to twist her body, but he held on tight, positioning her head over the hole. "You don't deserve the power of the Joining. Neither does the King." He intended to prolong the agony, so he drew the blade across the woman's forehead. He would get to her neck soon enough. "Only I deserve to be Joined. Only I."

The blood rippled free and slowly poured down her face as the Key began to weep. Vance watched, mesmerised, as one drop curved its way down to her chin and hung there, waiting to fall. The rest of the world faded from his consciousness and his mouth dried in anticipation.

A knot of movement made him break his concentration and he felt his jaw sparkle with pain as the farmgirl jumped at him, her nails tearing at his skin. With an animal like growl of anger, he flung his elbow up, cracking it into her face. She slumped to the ground, blood oozing from her mouth.

Tired of the distractions, Chalance Vance pushed Zayna's head closer to the hole. She struggled again, but a swift knee to her back weakened her resolve. Slashing at her face with more cuts, he waited as the blood began to rain down. Slowly, slowly, the drops fell into the dark hole. He felt his heart tremble as he waited for the response. Something in his soul ached, a need that he kept long buried now digging its way up, sensing satiation.

The blood continued to fall. 

Nothing happened.

Vance fell to his knees as the shock vibrated though his soul. He saw the confusion on the woman's face too, but he ignored it, jerking her head forward and squeezing her wounds, so more of her blood would drop. Still nothing happened.

His mind froze with disbelief. This could not be happening. Not like this. Not when he had been so close. He could vaguely hear Cyle calling up at him, confusion lining his voice. Chalance Vance ignored him and, for one of the few times in his life, he felt tears come to his eyes. He had been so certain. How could it have all gone so wrong?

Zayna looked up at him, red rivers lining her face. Quietly at first, but slowly growing in confidence, she began to laugh. He felt her body sag with relief and anger welled up inside of him, contorting his face. She laughed even harder at this, and Vance would have struck her, but despair stilled his hand. What would be the point now?

He let her go and she rolled away. Vance watched as the pool of blood continued to drip into the hole. Another rivulet of crimson liquid joined it, though he did not recognise it. This blood was darker, and it cut through Zayna's like a knife, but he did not care anymore. It was all the same to him.

A haze fell over his eyes and defeat made his face grow hard. He barely noticed the drop of darker blood as it hung at the edge of the hole, trembling, before falling into the deep.

The Gate shuddered.

Vance's mouth fell open and his eyes widened in shock once again.

More of the dark blood fell. The Gate started to rock with violent jerks. He heard Cyle's voice cry with triumph. Realisation stung Vance, shaking him awake from his reverie. He traced the path of the darker blood back to its source.

The farmgirl.

The farmgirl was the Key.


	37. Heroic Deed

Chapter 36

The Tower of Hyrule swayed in the wind, the makeshift gallows erected on the platform at the top creaking under the pressure. The prisoners stood before Redstar Murden, their hands manacled, shuffling their feet in misery. Most of them hung their heads low, waiting for the inevitable to pass. Not Ruto though. She kept her back straight, her burning eyes fixed on the Morolak man, her mouth curling in anger. She knew from the uncomfortable look on his face that it disturbed him. She took a small measure of satisfaction from that.

"Why did the King do this to us?" a prisoner moaned at her side. "I don't understand. Did the Hero of Time compel him to do this?"

The Zora Princess let out a breath in annoyance. "Link is not to blame for this. Neither is Zelda. Neither have done anything wrong," she said. Seeing the look of disbelief in his eyes and noticing that others in the crowd had looked up to listen, she continued, "Do you still believe the King's lies after this? After having your homes burned and your families killed? He was nothing, but a weak, power-hungry charlatan."

The prisoner opened his mouth to let loose an instinctive retort, but then paused as her words sank in. She nodded at him as she saw realisation dawn in his eyes. 

Another prisoner was pushed to the front and she saw it to be Mayro, her husband. She tensed as one of the soldiers dragged him to the gallows and slipped the noose around his neck. 

Redstar eyed her with a morbid grin. "Your last chance, Princess," he drawled. "I was going to torture him, soften him up. But out of compassion for you, I decided to wait until this moment."

"Compassion?" she spat. "Let me take his place and you would have showed me enough of that."

He wagged his finger, a bandage still around the flesh where she had bit into it. "Ah, why be noble when we could have a lot more enjoyment doing something else?" His mouth took on its usual lecherous expression that she had grown to hate.

She was tired of the implications in his words. "You're mad. I would never lower myself to that."

"Oh?" he said, holding up a hand. She flinched, seeing one of the soldiers rest his foot on the crate under her husband, ready to kick it away and send him to his death. "Not even to save your dear husband?"

Anger darkened her face. "You wouldn't let any of us live anyway."

Redstar shook his head. "You wound me, Princess. Do you think so lowly of me?"

She couldn't resist. "Yes."

He laughed. "Last chance, Princess. Yes or no?"

Ruto stood, the wind rocking her from side to side, as all eyes turned towards her. She kept her gaze on Mayro, the frightened look on his face splintering her heart. He was not nobility, nor was he the type that had engaged in any battles or disputes. He was not weak though, an accomplished member of the Zora tribe, famed for his level-headedness. It was precisely that that had attracted her to him.

"Would you let all the prisoners go?" she said, feeling disgusted at herself for even considering his idea.

Redstar's eyes sparkled with triumph. "Of course, my dear. You have my word on it. I can even let you watch as I settle them in the land, so that you will not doubt me."

Ruto waited a moment, a hot tear forming in her eye. The Morolak watched, his lips twitching in anticipation. She opened her mouth to give her answer.

A rumble rolled through the air. Ruto blinked as the others looked around in confusion. She thought it was thunder. Distant thunder. But there was not a single cloud in the sky and the setting sun was pulling the light away, revealing the twinkle of a thousand stars. 

Ruto looked up, catching the sight of a cloud of dust on the horizon. Murden followed her gaze, his mouth falling open and his arms shaking. Despite the fading light, Ruto could see clearly what was causing the noise and her heart turned in hope.

An army was approaching Hyrule Castle.

                                                                                                                       *

Zayna stood, trying to stop her legs from trembling. Her mind was aflame with swirling thoughts. A dead weight settled on her heart. 

A lie. Her entire life had been a lie. 

She did not understand. Why had her mother done this to her? Why had she told her she was the Key? Not even realising it, the words of the Freelander Wise One floated into her head. _Are you so certain that you are the Key?_

Grief clashed with relief within her. All the nights she had spent awake in fear, all the times she had denied herself the chance to get close to anyone for concern that they would want to take advantage of her, all the times she had been hunted and chased – all of it had been for nothing. And yet, another part of her mind sighed with joy. Her self-hatred melted away at long last, her disgust at her role in life. She was normal. _Normal._

Dimly, she was aware of Chalance Vance muttering to himself.

"A girl, born not long after the Counter Key. A girl whose mother would be stricken. A girl cut from the same cloth as the Counter Key itself, and beloved to the Royal family." He looked up at Zayna, his eyes wide with distraction. "We were wrong. We thought that you, because you were an Advisor to the Princess, because your mother had died at the gates of the castle, because you had been born after the Counter Key, we thought that _you_ were the Key." He turned to regard the unconscious form of Tessa. "Cut from the same cloth. They were both born in Lon Lon. They were both farmgirls. We thought it was you because we traced your family's history, found it to have originated in a village that had once stood where Lon Lon Ranch now resides."

"My mother," Zayna said. "She had dreams. She was certain that I was the Key."

Chalance Vance narrowed his eyes. "Your mother," he spat with a laugh. "Was an insane fool. Her dreams were delusions mixed with an element of truth. You see, your mother _was_ stricken – she suffered from madness. We thought it was somewhat fitting. And all the interesting things we found out about your family." His lips curled with contempt. "Let us just say that if one is looking for healthy - and _sane_ - offspring then one should not mate with a Goron like your ancestors did."

Zayna's cheeks burned and she snarled in fury. "You lie!"

"It matters not now." He grabbed Tessa by her hair, but she did not stir.

Clenching her fists, the apprentice took a step forward. "Leave her alone."

"How will you stop me?" he replied with a sneer. 

Her eyes flicked to his staff, still lying on the floor. Before he could react, she leapt, landing with a roll, and scooped up the Staff of Insight. 

Vance dropped the farmgirl as Zayna swung the staff like a weapon. He ducked, angry that she was using it in such a manner. He pounced at her, but she spun on her heel, dodging the attack. Zayna waited until he had regained his bearings and had turned back towards her before thrusting the staff into his face with a crack, breaking his nose once more. She grinned as he howled in pain.

The sorcerer held out his hand, muttering some words. Zayna waited in uneasy silence, wondering what he was doing. A movement from below made her look down. The staff was trembling in her hands as though it were alive. She gripped it tighter, not willing to let go, but it began to glow red, wisps of smoke curling off of it. Unable to endure the heat any longer, she opened her hands with a yelp and it flew into Chalance Vance's grasp. 

A bolt of crackling, blue energy spewed from the orb and pinned Zayna to the ground. She tried to struggle, but every little motion made her bonds tighten, sending rippling pains through her body. She watched in horror as Vance strode towards Tessa, finally able to drag the farmgirl over to the hole. Retrieving his dagger, he turned to Zayna one last time and gave her a grin of pure triumph.

A quick slash with his knife opened a slit in Tessa's throat. Hot tears sprang to Zayna's eyes as she watched the farmgirl's body convulse violently, the life seeping out of her. Vance lost his footing, stumbling when the platform and the Gate began to shudder, like a ship caught in a storm. The energy bonds sloughed off of Zayna, but it was too late. Tessa slumped to the floor lifelessly.

A low creak tore through the air like metal nails scraping on chalk. The noise made Zayna flinch in pain and the shaking platform sent drilling vibrations into her teeth. There was a final heave, the sound reminding Zayna of an immense beast taking in a deep breath, before a heartbeat of pure silence fell. Then she was flung to the floor as the Gate burst open.

                                                                                                                            *

"Anyone who is still alive," Link said dryly. "Raise your hand now."

His head still groggy, he stepped away from the twitching carcass of the Dragon, looking in awe at the deep cut the falling creature had gouged into the land. A trail of snapped trees and churned earth led back towards the Gate. Ironically it had been the serpent's massive bulk that had saved them, its body absorbing most of the impact.

He sensed Zelda's presence and he looked up with a smile as she ran into his ready embrace. Curling his arms around her, he breathed in her scent with closed eyes, letting himself taste this simple joy. 

The sound of clinking armour broke his attention and he saw Chizan waiting, Chitz at his feet and a scowling Milledra at his side.

"Anyone hurt?" the Hero asked.

"Nothing that we won't recover from," the Prince replied. 

A low growl rolled through the air and dark clouds swarmed over the spot where they knew the Gate was standing. Link looked down at Zelda, each sensing the other's apprehension. There was a hint of steel in their hearts and they built upon it, each of them strengthening the other.

"Enough time has been wasted," Chizan said, resting a hand on Link's shoulder and glancing over at the Queen.

Zelda nodded. "Agreed," she said, taking in a deep breath. "Let's go."

Link turned to the other two. "You," he said, pointing at Milledra. "You're coming with us." 

The Queen of the Dead flushed in anger and opened her mouth to protest, but he drew his sword to silence. Her mouth snapped shut, but her eyes smouldered with anger. "As you wish, Hero of Time."

Link did not let his surprise show on his face. So she _did_ know who he was after all.

The Hero of Time shifted his attention to the Imp. "Chitz, stay here," he said. "We'll be back for you, I promise."

Chitz sat down, the relief obvious from his face. "Haha. You're the boss, boss."

They ran, their limbs still protesting with pain. But pain was of little consequence to them. They knew, and accepted, that their lives would always be one continuous struggle. There had to be a counterweight for all the evil in the world, there had to be a dam that would rein that evil in, and only people with pure hearts and a desire to sacrifice that which was dear to them would be the ones that could fulfil that role. And at this juncture in history, at this turn of the pages of the book of Hyrule, the task fell to Link, Zelda and Chizan. They knew it, and they were prepared for it.

As they neared the valley of the Gate, they scrambled down a ditch in order to hide themselves from the soldiers they had spotted on their run in. Link looked up, catching sight of forked bolts of lightening splitting the sky, through the dark green foliage of the trees.

"Look!" Zelda cried.

The vines crawling up the Gate burned, then withered into ash. At the top, screaming in victory, stood Chalance Vance, his bloodstained dagger thrust skywards. A body lay at his feet, unmoving. 

Link saw Chizan's face ripple in shock just as he himself realised who it was.

"It can't be," the Prince gasped. "Tessa?"

He looked around at the Hero and the Queen, his eyes pleading for them to contradict what he had seen. Not receiving any comfort from their confused expressions, his surprise melted into anger and he darted forwards.

"Wait!" Link called, but he himself froze as he felt a stab of anger radiate from Zelda. He turned towards her, noticing the crease in her features and the gleam in her eye. He followed her gaze.

"Cyle!" she spat. 

The King stood in front of the Gate, his arms outstretched, bellowing with insane laughter. Chalance Vance climbed down beside him and raised his staff. An orb at the top of the wooden pole glowed, then a bubble of green energy flowed over the two of them, no doubt some sort of protection for what was to come. Howling winds curled out from the Gate, malignant voices catching in the air and floating over all of them, chilling them to the core.

A hiss followed, announcing the presence of those that lay within. Things stirred in the darkness beyond the Gate. They waited, all of them, the heroes, the King, the soldiers. Misshapen shadows appeared at the blurry line between the Sacred Realm and their world.

"Herzindi!" Chizan's voice cried out from ahead of them as the creatures appeared, grey, with forked tongues and rusting, blood-drenched axes. The Herzindi pounced, landing on soldiers' heads, sinking needle like teeth through their helmets and jumping off to hunt their next prey. Some of the Morolak warriors scattered in fright, while others stood their ground, swinging their swords and screaming.

Link and Zelda ran up to join the Prince. Cyle and Vance entered stepped over the line and entered the Sacred Realm, their bodies shimmering as they crossed between worlds. A female scream made the Hero turn on his heel, and he saw Milledra be engulfed by a group of the Herzindi, dragging her to the ground as they tore at her face and neck. He did not pity her.

A figure somersaulted in the air above them, momentarily blocking out the light of the sun. Landing on her feet, Zayna looked up at them, her smile in stark contrast to the haunted expression etched on her face. 

"Zayna!" the Queen cried with genuine delight. "What happened? How did they open the Gate?"

The apprentice's eyes lingered on them for a heartbeat, and Link saw the sadness swimming inside them. "I was never the Key," she said, her voice quiet. "It was Tessa. It was Tessa all along."

There was not even enough time to acknowledge their shock as the Herzindi swarmed around them, clawing and spitting. The four of them of them waded through the melee, swords at the ready. They moved as one unit, deflecting blows that were aimed at their friends in between thrusting their own attacks. The Herzindi managed to get close enough to tear at their tunics and scratch their armour. Claws ripped at bare skin on their face and caught at their hair. Things flew through the air, and it was a while before Link realised that they were bloody limbs. A trail of blood streaked through the air in the wake of a decapitated head or a severed hand.

Screams and growls rang out, merging with the sounds of tearing flesh and slicing swords. A cacophony of madness assaulted their ears.

The ground became thick with viscous liquid, an eerie mix of the red Morolak blood and the green of the Herzindi. It started to congeal under the last rays of the sun as it disappeared under the horizon, and the resulting stench almost made the heroes gag. 

At last they reached the portal. Link peered in, seeing swirling shapes and colours that did not hold in one position. There were no more words to be said. He felt Zelda's intent like a crystal needle in the mind. Not even waiting for the others, she stepped through. Chizan and Zayna followed. Closing his eyes and trying to shut out the insanity from behind him, Link slowly took the last step into the world beyond, piercing through the shimmering barrier. A cold film clung to his skin like a blanket and he felt all his senses contract, then expand as all the familiar dimensions of his world evaporated.

                                                                                                                      *

"It's time!"

Malon sprang to her feet, tearing her eyes away from the sight of the Herzindi flowing through the Morolak army like lava cutting through grass. Lorfor and Navi fell away from her. She glanced at the old man, giving him one last smile. He responded in kind, but his smile was a sad one and watered with tears that fell from his eyes. 

"Goodbye, Navi," she said to the glowing sphere that was frantically streaking across her vision. "Have a good life."

"No, no, no," the little faerie cried, her emotions getting the better of her. "Don't go. You can't."

"I have to," Malon replied, the hollowness in her heart filling with grim resolve.

She flung out her arms and threw her head back. Opening her mind, she channelled the portion of her soul that had lain dormant for all these summers directly at the Gate. None of her blood was needed for this task, unlike that which afflicted the Key. Briefly, her thoughts flicked to Tessa and Malon felt a tug of sadness. She had known who the Key was, of course, even if her friends had not, but it pained her that such an innocent person had to have died for so base a thing as power. Malon knew that in a gentler world, she and Tessa may even have ended up as friends.

Malon stilled her heart as it threatened to overcome her with a sob. Her thoughts still whirled. Her Papa throwing her in the air as a child as she squealed in delight. Zelda's grin as the two of them had once sneaked away one night, hoping to run away and join the travelling dancers that were putting on shows all through Hyrule. Finally, her mind turned to Link and she remembered his anguished expression as he held his bow in shaking hands while she dangled from the roof of the cavern, the Princess fading away behind her.

A dazzling light seeped out from her limbs and she rose in the air, incandescent like a piercing star. The battle below paused as all eyes turned towards her. Her flesh burned away and her bones crumbled to dust. Her spirit soared free, and with a slow wave of her disembodied arms, she let loose a tidal wave of pure energy, full of life and hope. The crest of the wave twinkled like diamonds before it poured into the valley below engulfing both Morolak and Herzindi alike. They were thrust apart and then flung into the air, the Herzindi being sucked back into the Sacred Realm, the Morolaks fading away from the valley and reappearing in their homeland, confused and dazed. 

The wave continued in its path, scaring birds out of trees and shaking the island with violent quakes. It loomed over the Gate for a moment, paused, then fell upon it, tearing it from the earth and splintering the wood. The columns of rock collapsed in on themselves, grinding into fine dust. The wave faded, then shimmered out of reality.

And then there was calm.

Malon's spirit floated in the air, caught between heaven and earth, life and death. 

There was still one thing that remained for her to do.

                                                                                                                          *

Redstar Murden gripped the edge of wall that lined around the top of Hyrule Tower, reeling from the sight he saw below. The army surrounded the Castle and the Market Town now, their archers picking off his soldiers easily. What had shocked him most of all was the fact that the invaders were all Morolaks. It could not be possible. His own King and Queen could never have known about his plans, so well-placed were his bribes and the knives to the back if those concerned could not be swayed by greed.

Slowly, he lifted his head and saw that the throng of soldiers stretched away into the horizon. Whoever had amassed this army had come well prepared. He was paralysed with fear and indecision. Nothing had readied him for this.

Cupping his mouth with one hand, he sought out the leader. "Who goes there?" he shouted, as he tried to still his trembling voice. "Who dares attack me?"

One horseman trotted out slowly in front of the soldiers. "I dare, Redstar," a female voice called. "Your illegal occupation of this land is over. Hyrule belongs neither to you nor to Cyle. Hyrule only has one ruler – and that is the Queen, Zelda."

He recognised the voice, but he waited until she revealed herself. Lifting the hood from her head, Redstar was taken aback at how different she now looked. Her skin was scarred and a black eye-patch hung over one side of her face. He noticed that she was missing a hand too.

"Duchess Toriya," he said with distaste. "Not as dead as I thought you were, it seems."

"No, I'm not," she said slowly. 

"And Skulljack?"

"Sadly, he did not survive," she said, not sounding in the least bit aggrieved.

"Does the King and Queen know that you've taken their army?"

"They know and they approve," she replied. "They received the scroll I sent out when I was attacked by Cyle's forces. They gave their full backing to return Hyrule back to its rightful ruler." She paused, a calm smile on her face. Redstar heard a commotion behind him and saw his soldiers make for the stairs out of the corner of his eyes. His mind race, wondering what to do. "They also know that you took your traitors to aid Cyle. They are not very pleased."

Redstar started to tremble. Anger and fear whirled around his head. He raised a clenched fist and shook it at the Duchess. "You will not win," he said uselessly. "You will fall."

"No," a voice said from behind him. He spun around to come face to face with Ruto, her eyes narrowed into sharp slits. "Here _you_ fall."

He did not have time to react before she struck him with a swift quick. His heart caught in his throat as he realised what was about to occur. His mouth opened, but no words came out. Arms flailing wildly, he fell backwards over the edge, his vision tearing from the Zora Princess' face to the starry night sky above. 

With a scream, he plummeted to the ground.  

                                                                                                                 *

They ran, though direction seemed to have no meaning here in the Sacred Realm. Chizan could not even make sense of what was going on around them; never mind trying to ascertain where they were heading. Twisting paths of tightly packed sand threaded through the air and hung over a vast expanse of nothingness. He did not even know what was holding them up. Sometimes the paths would curve around until they were running upside down, and yet they did not fall.

When they had entered the Herzindi were ahead of them and then, without exactly knowing how, the creatures had been displaced and were now chasing. In fact, they were almost gaining on them. Lights flashed and images hung in the air before dissipating. Once he saw the large, bulky figure of Ganon chained to a wall, his face a picture of misery. Other times, more images came and went, some familiar and some unfamiliar.

Ahead of them, they saw the floating green bubble containing the King and the sorcerer speed onwards, the blows of the Herzindi having no effect on the magical shell. Chizan almost felt sick. This whole place smelt of magic. Every time he breathed, he thought he did not take in air, but despair and hatred itself, thick as congealed liquid.

In the centre of the Realm, an immense city hung there, seemingly held up with its own power. It was bigger than any city he had ever seen in his life, silvery-grey and tall, it bristled with a thousand thousand lights that were too strong to have been simple oil-lit fires. It had a haunting beauty to it as well, and Chizan found it difficult to tear his eyes away.

There was a pang of sorrow smothering his heart. Tessa was the Key. Tessa was dead. Racked with guilt by how he had treated the hunter, Chizan had secretly vowed to protect Fran's daughter from any harm. She was like a pearl, pure and unblemished, hidden in an oyster. It was a Heroic Deed that he was dedicating to a fallen friend and now he had failed in that task as well. 

The Herzindi growled behind them, snapping at their heels.

The Prince saw Zelda cast a fearful glance over her shoulder. "We're…not….going…to…make…it," she said between gasps. 

"Don't despair," he shouted, slowing so that he was at the rear of their party. Perhaps he could fend a few off. He drew his sword, and looked behind. What he saw almost made him stumble. There were far too many of the creatures, their yellowing teeth grinning, their eyes devoid of any emotion. Chizan looked ahead again and saw the Hero take Zelda by the hand, pulling her onwards. Link's apprentice maintained her own pace, her face looking focused as she offered no words.

He realised, with a sinking weight in his heart, that the only way they would get away was if the Herzindi were distracted long enough for them to gain a little more distance. And then he knew exactly what had to be done. He knew what he had to do to redeem himself – to finally be worthy to Zelda, to finally apologise to both the Queen and the hunter for his actions towards the both of them. To sacrifice oneself for your friends was the ultimate Heroic Deed. With ice-cold certainty he knew he would not fail this time. A smile touched his face. 

"For you, my friend Fran," he whispered. "For you, Tessa. For you, Zelda."

He spun around, swinging his sword up. The Herzindi were not expecting the manoeuvre and at least three collided into his blade, sending their heads flying into the abyss. He continued with his swings and thrusts, desperate to give his friends a chance before he was overwhelmed.

"Chizan!" He heard the Queen's voice behind him. "What are you doing?"

"Go!" he screamed, not wanting to look back. "Don't stop, just go!"

He could not resist though. Flicking his head quickly, he glanced at his friends. Zelda's face was pale with shock, and his heart trembled in pain at the sight. Link watched him calmly, and Chizan saw the understanding in the Hero's eyes. The Prince gave him one last grateful smile, and Link responded in kind. Zelda took a step forward, her face creased in hesitation, but Link grasped her wrist once more and tugged her on.

Chizan turned back to his attackers as they engulfed him, claws and teeth snapping and scratching. He fought, until his blade was dented and covered in green slime. He held his ground, needing to keep the creatures at bay for as long as possible.

Finally, the inevitable happened. Weakened from fatigue and too many wounds, he fell back and one of the Herzindi tore through his left arm. Drops of hot blood flew into his face and he grit his teeth to keep from crying out. Next, his sword arm was ripped from his shoulder as he fell to his knees. Despite it all, despite the pain that made his head swim and begged at him to close his eyes for one final time, Prince Chizan of the ultimate Heroic Deed managed to fix a grin firmly onto his face.

The Herzindi pounced, tearing, ripping, howling in victory, until all that was left was an empty shell. 

                                                                                                                       *

Zelda's vision contracted and she almost stumbled. Too much. There was just too much to take in. She thought her heart might burst from grief. She felt a tendril from Link's mind wrap around her heart in a hug, and she looked up, catching his smile. There was pain in his mind too, but he was controlling it, though the effort showed on his face, where the skin around his eyes were tight. He still knew that there was a bigger task ahead, and he tried to encourage her to keep focused.

Her mind was playing tricks on her again; as she saw the path beneath her crack, then splinter apart. It wasn't until she caught the expressions of horror on Zayna and Link's faces that she realised it was real.

"What's happening?" Zayna cried.

"The path, the bridge," Link replied. "It's collapsing."

Zelda looked behind and saw that he was right. The path was crumbling away, spilling Herzindi into the darkness below. It would only be a matter of moments before the ground beneath their feet would dissolve.

"We have to keep going," said Link with a strained voice. 

"It's moving too fast," Zayna replied, her own voice starting to tremble with panic. "We won't escape."

"It can't end this way," Zelda said, feeling the burn of anger within. "I won't allow it." She snapped her head forwards, seeing Cyle's bubble in the distance. "I won't let him win."

Suddenly, the path lurched under their feet and they were thrown into the air. Zelda sensed the fear in Link's mind and it mirrored her own. If they fell here, there would be nothing but a chasm of darkness to swallow them.

But they did not fall.

They were rising, and gaining speed. The city at the centre of the Realm loomed larger and larger in their sight. She could see the green bubble hurtling towards it as well. Now her worries shifted, and she thought they would collide into the tall buildings that jutted up from the darkness like slender mountains of ice. 

A flash of light made her shut her eyes instinctively.

When she opened them again, she found herself in a large circular room. At its centre, ghostly light fell on a tiny platform, wide enough for one person. Link and Zayna were beside her, looking around in bewilderment. Opposite them, Cyle and Chalance Vance got to their feet. She felt a stir in her heart at seeing her old husband again, and it prompted Link to send her a questioning nudge.

Cyle looked up and flinched when their eyes met. "Zelda," he spat.

"Cyle," she replied, the name tasting hollow on her tongue. 

The King's eyes flicked to her two companions. "Who is that?" he said, nodding at Link. Zelda realised that he had never seen him in his Oni form before.

"I'm hurt you don't remember me, Cyle," Link said, drawing his sword.

"It is the Hero of Time," Chalance Vance hissed. "And this is the Chamber of the Joining."

"Indeed it is," a voice growled. A figure stepped from the shadows, a hideous minotaur with green eyes. "Welcome to Jaroga, _my _city." His gaze shifted to the sorcerer. "Isn't that right, Chalance Vance?"

Vance replied by raising his staff, the orb atop of it flickering before letting loose thin fingers of energy. The Emperor of the Sacred Realm held up a hand and caught the blow without showing any hint of being harmed. He pushed, and the sorcerer fell back. 

"Now," the Emperor said, his gaze lingering on each one of them. "If I wish to be Joined, I have to slay _you,_" and here his eyes rested on Cyle. "And _you._" This time he pinned his lizard-like green eyes onto Zelda herself. She shivered, feeling a tingle of revulsion. 

Link waved his sword in front of her protectively, but the Emperor merely smiled. At a click of his fingers, the floor beneath Link, Zayna and Chalance Vance fell away, and the trio plunged into the darkness below. Zelda reached out uselessly, but a quick scan with her mind revealed that the Hero was unharmed.

Cyle looked at both of them and drew his own blade, a sparkle of fear in his eyes. Zelda reached for her belt and pulled free the short sword that Chizan had given her.

"Good, good," the Emperor said with a chuckle. He cracked his knuckles, and Zelda saw the muscles in his arm twitch in anticipation. "Let us finish this, shall we?" 


	38. Endgame

Chapter 37

Link and Zayna tumbled down the shaft, the rush of wind tugging at their hair. A blast of heat struck them as the duct opened out into a large room, layered with platforms bobbing up and down on bubbling magma. They landed, the shock vibrating in their bones, before the platform they were on started to push downwards. Trying to find a grip on the smooth surface, Zayna scrambled with her arms, but the platform dipped further and she starting slipping towards the fiery liquid. 

Link pushed with his back, hoping to act as a counterweight, his eyes beginning to water from the shimmering air that stank so much like charcoal. It worked, and the platform righted itself, Zayna hugging it in relief. The Hero smiled at her, while his eyes scanned the room. He did not know what type of material the platforms or the walls were made from but they were clearly resistant to the magma, despite the deep scorch marks that ringed the entire area.

Behind them, built into a wall, was a flight of stairs. Beneath the stairway was a long, fixed platform, the only stable safe haven he could see. He hoped that they led up to the Chamber of Joining. He felt the tide of uneasy panic rise within his soul. He could no longer sense Zelda's thoughts and feelings. Their connection, though, was not broken, only smothered somewhat. Her presence was still there behind whatever heavy blanket was blocking them, and so he knew she was still alive. It was enough, for now.

He looked out across the expanse of red and orange liquid and he spotted Chalance Vance, his nose bent, standing on a platform ahead of them. Like lightening, the sorcerer's eyes flickered with anger and his body was tense with frustration. With grim satisfaction, Link realised that the only way Vance could get to the Chamber was by going through him and Zayna. Drawing his sword, Link decided that that was a wholly acceptable proposal.

Vance stood straight, his staff gripped in his right hand. "It seems I made a mistake," he called, his words directed at the Hero. "I should have killed you when I had the chance."

"You're right," Link replied, his voice calm. "You should have. Now that our roles are reversed, I won't be making the same mistake."

The sorcerer snarled, his mouth curling. "So arrogant," he spat. "It seems you are in need of being taught a lesson."

Link laughed. "Arrogant," he said. "Strange that you of all people should accuse me of that." He felt his eyes narrow as anger took him. "You, who think that other people are your personal playthings to do with as you will. You sicken me. Like a tumour you need to be cut out from this world so that she can be healthy once more."

Their eyes locked across the room, their mutual hatred of each other a shared bond. "No," Vance replied, raising his staff. Link tensed, gripping the hilt of his sword harder. He saw Zayna draw her own weapon out the corner of his eye. "It is not me that is the poison. It is the world itself. It is only fitting that I be the one that remakes it. And I will start by wiping you out and then all your descendents."

Link sucked in a breath as reality rippled. The Demon Riders appeared at Chalance Vance's side as his mouth split into a toothy grin. Jagged forks of energy arched out from the staff before they swirled into a crackling sphere of dark energy. Before Link could even think what to do next the sphere hurtled in towards them and one of the Riders leapt in the air, tendrils of despair cutting through the atmosphere and into the Hero's heart. He fought it, trying not to be submerged by the memories of their initial encounter. 

Teacher and apprentice dived, Zayna cartwheeling onto a platform on the right, while Link landed with a roll onto a platform on the left. The sphere careened into the spot where they had just been standing, crushing the floating structure into dust. The Rider touched down on Zayna's platform and she swung a sword at him with a scream of rage.

Link instinctively shot out a hand, desperately reaching out to try and help. It was a useless gesture, he knew, but he was already distracted as another sphere of sparking energy formed in the air like a whirlpool. With Zayna occupied, he knew this would be coming for him, and he swung round to face it, sword at the ready. The globe engulfed his vision as it started cutting through the air towards him. He saw the swirling light within it and he had to fight to keep his head from spinning.

Closer and closer it came and he felt his skin prickle, catching the scent of burning in the air. He saw it reflected in his sword now, a dance of fury and light. Gritting his teeth, he held firm, despite the fact that his legs screamed at him to flee. 

A hair's breath closer.

Now.

He somersaulted into the air and the sphere shattered the platform with a crack, sending a plume of magma floating slowly upwards. Just before he began to plummet downwards, Link swung his hand down, flipped his hookshot up from his belt and fired. The spike snaked outwards, embedding itself into the far wall behind his enemies and, with a wrench that threatened to tear his arm from his socket, he swung in towards Chalance Vance and the remaining Rider. 

The sorcerer's mouth dropped open as he saw what was about to happen. Link roared in rage, swinging his sword until the momentum made it blur. The world screamed past him at a terrifying rate, and the Hero saw the edge of his blade fly in closer towards Vance's neck. At the very last instant the sorcerer dived, and Link's glittering emerald blade struck the Demon Rider. Caught more by surprise than pain, the Rider stepped backwards, slipped, and fell into the molten liquid, his body rippling like a group of bats in flight. He did not cry out, nor scream. He could not have even if he had wanted to. The magma swallowed him whole.

Link rolled again as he landed, his eyes quickly catching a glimpse of Zayna as she fell back from the other Rider's blows, her face haggard. Again, the Hero had to fight the urge to jump over to her. 

A hiss caught his attention and he turned to Chalance Vance, seeing another orb of dark energy hovering above the sorcerer's head. Something pricked at Link's mind, a memory, something overlooked. As the sphere screamed in towards him with a screeching howl, Link realised how similar this battle was to his encounter with Ganondorf in the other timeline. 

Another sphere followed the first one in rapid fire, but Link was ready. With one last glance over at Zayna's platform, the Hero of Time positioned himself, shifting his feet and raising his blade. He swung, a long, powerful arc, catching the first sphere and sending it flying over towards his apprentice. Twirling with the momentum, he swung again, this time curving his sword slightly so that he could propel the ball of energy in a different direction. Directly towards Chalance Vance.

"Zayna!" he shouted. "Drop!"

She did and the sphere struck the Rider directly in his chest. His body flared up in a bright orange glow as his armour burned away and searing energy ripped through him. 

Vance was quicker. Seeing the attack coming, he raised his staff, protective energy snaking out from the orb. It was not enough. The ball of energy collided into him, though not with the same intensity as it had hit the Rider, and he was thrown back, his neck snapping back as his mouth opened to let loose a gurgling scream.

He rammed into the wall above the fixed platform, hanging there for a heartbeat, before sliding down slowly and coming to a stop, unmoving.

Link fixed his eyes on him for a moment, his fingers flexing. Satisfied that the sorcerer would not be stirring any more, he jumped over the final few platforms, pausing once as one wobbled too violently, and reached his apprentice.

"Are you hurt?" he said, holding out his hand.

She was on her knees, shivering. Link felt a twinge in his heart. He knew how unsettling it could be to face the Demon Riders.

Taking his hand, she pulled herself up. "No," she breathed. "Not really." She added a smile. "Let's go. We have to help Zelda."

He nodded, his heart trembling at the mention of his wife's name. They turned together; ready to leap ahead to the stairway.

With a _thwip,_ a shimmering band of green light snaked out from the darkness and curled around Zayna's hands. Surprised into inaction, Link could only gawp as she was tugged into the air with a yelp. The cord wrapped itself around the ceiling of the room, and Zayna hung there, swinging. Slowly, the light solidified itself into a brown rope. A rope that was gradually disintegrating, little by little.

"Look familiar, Hero?" Chalance Vance's voice echoed out, dripping with smugness. He crawled out into the light, one hand still clutching his staff, his robe in tatters. Blood trickled down his cheek. Slowly, he made his way to the staircase, his staff emitting a bubble of protective energy. "You don't have much time, Hero. What is it going to be? Save the girl or stop me?"

Link looked up, seeing Zayna's panicked wide eyes staring at the rope as it slowly faded away. If she fell, she would plunge straight into the magma. Link looked back to the sorcerer and saw his triumphant smile.

His heart pounding, the Hero of Time reached back for his bow.

                                                                                                                              *

Cyle and Zelda scattered as the Emperor galloped towards them. Pressing his back against a wall, the King's eyes sought out his former wife and found her crouching in one corner, her sword at the ready. Her hair hanging limply and her eyes sparkling with resolve, Cyle still thought she looked beautiful. His heart turned in pain and love. She looked up, catching him looking at her.

"Why, Cyle, why?" she shouted, her eyes darting back and forth between him and the Emperor who was turning around for another charge.

"Why what?" he replied, confused.

Her answer was drowned out by the Emperor's bellow, the creature's hooves thundering against the floor as he dashed towards her. She held her ground, and for a heart-stopping moment, Cyle thought she would slay the beast herself and then proceed to the Joining. He was still unsure as to how the prophecy worked. If it was Zelda that killed the Emperor and not him, would she be able to be Joined by virtue of still being the Queen of Hyrule?

Deciding he did not want to wait to find out, he darted out and placed himself in front of the onrushing minotaur, his sword swinging. Zelda was not relying on Cyle, however, and she rolled out of harm's way, jumping to her feet as the Emperor passed her, and slicing a thin line across his hide with her sword. 

Cyle thrust his sword upward, but the creature screamed, knocking the King of Hyrule out of his path with his arm, like someone swatting a fly. Cyle slid across the floor, his skin burning from the traction. He snapped his head up. Zelda was before him.

"Why all this destruction?" she demanded, her eyes aflame. "Why the pain? Why? You had everything – why?" She was shrieking now, her body trembling. They heard the patter of the Emperor's hooves, but could not see him. Evidently, the creature had decided to fall back awhile to recover from Zelda's strike. Her eyes were still on him and, finally, a dam broke inside and he decided to her that which he had kept locked away in his heart.

"I did not have everything," he bit back. "I had _my_ pain, _my_ destruction." His heart welled up as the words started to flow. "I had my hands thrust against hot stoves just because I made a simple mistake in my chores. I was beaten until my bones broke when my words were misunderstood. Once, just once, I saw a travelling troupe of entertainers. I thought, I _desperately_ thought, that this was something I could enjoy with my family. A day where, for once in my miserable life, we could share happiness and smiles just like all the other _normal_ families in the world." Tears were pouring down his face like a child, but he did not care. Zelda continued to watch him, her expression stony. "But all they did when I asked was to tie me upside down with hot coals on my feet, slapping me until I would admit that I was too worthless for something like that." His throat was raw now and he felt the muscles in his face tighten so hard it hurt. "Worthless, they called me. Worthless."

Zelda stood, unmoved, a look of disbelief in her eyes. "Who did this to you?" she asked softly.

"Who do you think?" he spat.

They remained there for a heartbeat, looking at each other.

"You never told me."

Cyle let loose a short, harsh laugh. "How could I? Everytime I saw you gazing out of a window I knew who were thinking of. Everytime you went silent, and said you were 'too busy', I know what was going on in your mind. How could I ever tell you when all you ever thought of was _him?_"

Her eyes widened. "Cyle, that's not true," she said. "I cared about you. I _married_ you, not Link. I _cared_."

"Lie!" His voice was rising further, almost getting hysterical.

He saw something dawn on her face. "All this," she whispered. "All this just because you were hurt as a child?" Her voice took an incredulous edge and Cyle felt his ire rise. "You were going to inflict pain just because you received it? Are you truly a man or did you never leave your childhood?"

He flinched at her last words, but did not rise to reply directly to them. "No one will feel any pain, my dear," he said, grinning insanely. "Except for the pain in their souls. Their hearts will be filled with so much love and adoration for me that they will think they will burst." He paused, trying to gain breath. He could almost taste it now. "Everyone. Especially _you_ and _Link_."

"Oh, Cyle, no" she said softly. He saw something new in her eyes now. Something he did not want to see there. He saw her pity. "This isn't the way. Not like this, Cyle, not like this."

Before he could reply, the Emperor pounced from the shadows, his fists swinging. Cyle ducked the first blow and saw Zelda out of the corner of his eye, pulling her arm back as she prepared to throw her weapon. The King of Hyrule snarled, not wanting any help from his Queen. The minotaur took his eyes of off Cyle for a moment, seeing the danger that Zelda posed. The Queen stood steady, her face a mask of steely determination. It was all the distraction Cyle needed. 

As the Emperor of the Sacred Realm charged, the King of Hyrule dived straight for the creature's hooves. He felt them crack into his body, racking his body with pain. He ignored it, looking up. There was only the briefest of moments left to act. Seeing his chance, Cyle swung his sword up and thrust it deep into the beast's torso. 

The Emperor howled, a bloodcurdling scream, his limbs jerking out of his control. Cyle was flung away from the minotaur, his blade tearing free. He looked up, his head groggy, as the Emperor took one step back, the light in his green eyes fading, then toppled onto his side, dead. The floor split with hairline cracks and golden magma seeped out of the ground as the room started to shake.

Cyle grunted in satisfaction. There was but one thing left to do. His eyes found the lit platform at the centre of the room. All he had to do was step up onto it to gain his final victory. His eyes and thoughts focused on that one thing, and he pulled himself shakily to his feet, ignoring the vibrations all around him. A tear rolled down his face. So close.

He stepped up into the light, his gaze tracing the circular platform before him.

A flicker of movement caught his eyes, and he spun as Zelda leapt at him, her sword curving in for an attack. Once more he ducked, feeling the blade slice the air above his head. She had put too much force into her attack and she could not stop the momentum. Grinning, Cyle curled his own blade up, slicing through her wrist and severing her sword-free hand. 

She stepped back, her eyes wide with horror and pain. Her shriek cut through him and he ached for her, resisting the instinct to rush to her side. He pushed her away with a kick and she rolled along the floor.

Cyle Narawan, King of Hyrule, turned back to the small, spherical platform, blood pumping in his ears as he prepared himself to be Joined.

                                                                                                                    *

Link was calm and confident as he hooked two arrows into his bowstring. No longer did he have to agonise over difficult decisions. No longer was he the somewhat hesitant Hero, who needed to be pushed before he made the right choice. Everything was now clear. He had left Chizan to die outside Jaroga because he knew that that was the only way they would reach the city without being slaughtered. His former self may have turned back and wasted their chance. His former self would still be wallowing in guilt over it now.

He raised the bow.

Chalance Vance's laugh floated over to him. "The girl it is," he taunted. "I bid you farewell. It will be a joy to finally rid myself of you when I am Joined." He turned towards the stairs.

Link's eyes shifted to the sorcerer and his mouth curled into a grin. "Chalance Vance," he called, making the other man freeze and turn back. "Haven't you learned not to underestimate me yet?"

The Hero of Time leapt into the air, spinning the bow towards Vance and releasing the arrows. One missed, but the other sliced through the sorcerer's robe, pinning him to the wall. Link landed on the platform ahead, his weight pushing the front end into the air. This, in turn, knocked another platform that collided into another and made yet another spin into the middle of the molten liquid. Where it came to rest directly under the apprentice.

Zayna's rope snapped and she fell with a yell. Hitting the platform with a sharp exhalation of pain, she looked up, glaring.

Realising that she was unharmed, Link hookshotted across to the sorcerer. Vance tore his robe from the wall, his staff igniting into flame.

Link twirled his sword up as the sorcerer arced the staff downwards. The weapons crossed in the air and Link felt the heat roll off onto his hands. Vance did not wait for another attack, shoving the Hero with a kick to the chest. He backed off, the orb atop his staff crackling. 

Link dodged and weaved as the blasts came one by one, tearing into the ground and throwing dirt into his eyes. He dropped back, his sword feeling heavy in his hands, the debris stinging his eyes. Another step back, and the bolts of energy continued to rain in around him. He cast a cautious glance back over his shoulder. He was being herded towards the edge, where the magma was waiting with its fiery embrace. 

He tried swinging his sword ahead of him, hoping he might deflect the shots, but thick, black smoke was churning now, covering his vision and making him cough. In the din he heard Vance howling with laughter, a maniacal sound that rung in his head. He was sick and tired of hearing the sorcerer's voice. One blast caught his shoulder, burning it. Another made his thigh jerk and he felt blood trickle down his leg. The memory of his torture filled his mind, and Link dug his heels into the dirt, determined not to give.

There was a brief lull and the smoke began to dissipate. Link waited, wondering what was happening.

"Do you know what I really enjoyed, Hero?" Vance's voice hung in the air, as though it were clinging to the gloom. The staff was no longer alight, though the orb still glowed faintly. Link's eyes caught something in the wall next to him. Two small outcroppings, staggered one above the other. "No answer? Then I shall tell you. What I really enjoyed was the farmgirl's hot blood pouring into my hands as her pretty little innocent face faded away into the next world." He paused. "Simply delicious."

Link lunged, feigning an attack. Vance brought his staff up, ready. At the last instant, the Hero changed direction, stepping up onto the first outcropping, and then the second. Using the forward momentum, he launched himself into the air, spinning upside down for a heartbeat, before landing in front of Chalance Vance. The sorcerer's face reeled with shock. The Hero of Time grinned.

One swipe of Link's sword splintered the staff in two, and the second drove straight through the sorcerer's neck.

There was a hiss, like the sound of air escaping and then, finally, Chalance Vance's body collapsed in on itself and withered away until there was nothing but a wisp of purple smoke.

                                                                                                                           *

Zelda whimpered as she pushed her ruined arm into the seeping magma, cauterising the wound. The acrid smell of burnt flesh assaulted her senses and she almost retched. She tore a strip from her tunic and wrapped it around the blackened stump, the pain sending shockwaves up her arm. Dizzy, she searched the floor with her other hand, trying to locate her sword.

She looked up.

Cyle reached forward, his hand hovering over the platform. A pillar of blue light sprung up, bathing his face with soft light. The chamber shook even harder and a few blocks of masonry fell from the roof. Cyle's hand started to glow gold, and he turned it slowly in fascination. She could see his body shaking as he laughed. Waves of pain vibrated through her, chilling her soul and making her bones tremble.

She had to do something, but all her body begged her to do was to close her eyes and release herself from the hurt.

Her mind whirled, thinking. Huge sparks were flashing around the King now, his arm fully enveloped by the swirling pillar of light. Images danced in the air. She saw Cyle's parents as he saw them, ogre-like, with sagging faces and cold eyes. Other visions came and she did not recognise them all. Some surprised her. A whirl of light revealed a young, sleeping girl. Her face was covered with cobwebs and her dress was coated with dust. She would have thought the girl dead, if she did not catch the slow rising and falling of her chest. What surprised Zelda the most was the fact that the sleeping girl looked so very much like her.

There was no time to ponder. She had to distract him.

"Cyle," she croaked, pain making her voice waver. He did not hear her.

She swallowed, forcing her throat muscles to work. "Cyle!" She added a coat of strength to the word.

He flinched. She had his attention.

"There's something you have to know," she said. He waited, unmoving.  She fixed her gaze on him. Her heart thudded. "I remarried."

He spun away from the pillar and the light faded. He watched her with wide eyes. "What?" he whispered. "Who?" The fear in his eyes told her that he knew what the answer would be.

"To Link," she replied, struggling to keep her voice stable. "I love him."

"No." 

"Yes," she barked. "I love him. _I love Link._"

"Please, no." He stepped down from the platform, walking slowly towards her. Frantically, her hand scrambled along the ground, desperate to find her blade. "No!" He was running now, his face contorted in pain and rage. Her fingers curled around the hilt of the sword and she sagged in relief. Zelda watched him approach, his scarred face twitching, his hand raising his sword. 

"NO!" It was a bellow, almost animal like in its sound. He was before her now and she saw the tears on his face. An image flicked into her mind. An  image of Cyle, young, romantic, full of hope and promise. A well of sadness opened in her heart.

With a scream that shook her body, she swung her blade upwards, light catching on its polished surface, before she plunged it into his chest.

Her trembling hand let go and he took a step back.

"But," he gasped, a trickle of blood rolling down his chin. His face seemed to melt into a childlike expression. Lost, lonely, pleading. It was an image that would be seared into her mind for the rest of her life. He took another step back. In Zelda's mind, the shaking and the noise all faded.  All that she could hear was the weight of silence funnelling around Cyle's echoing voice.

"All I ever wanted." He fell to his knees, his eyes rolling.

"Was your love." Cyle's head hit the floor, his face taking on a look of serenity as his life left him.

Zelda's face crumpled in grief, and her body shuddered with sobs as she wept and wept and wept.

                                                                                                                       *

Link ran up the stairway, Zayna closely behind him. They skidded into the chamber, shocked to see it shaking itself apart and magma pooling on the floor. He spied the body of the Emperor, lying still. He could feel Zelda now in his mind, but something was wrong with her and it filled him with dread. He tried to caress her mind, tried to soothe whatever wound she was experiencing, but she pushed him away with a violence that surprised him.

"There she is," Zayna said, pointing.

Zelda was kneeling in front of Cyle's fallen form, her eyes and face red with tears. Link's eyes fell to the bandage on her arm and he felt a cold weight in his stomach. He was relieved too. Somehow, she had managed to stop Cyle from being Joined. He felt a surge of pride, but when he probed her, he realised that she did not share in his satisfaction.

They ran up to her and Link pulled her to her feet and into his arms. She did not resist.

"We have to get out of here," Zayna said as more stone fell from the ceiling, smashing into dust as it hit the floor.

Something swirled in the air in front of them, and a portal opened. He peered in, seeing Hyrule Field on the other side. He looked at Zayna, a question in his eyes, but she responded with a shrug.

'Go,' a voice said in his mind. At first he thought it was Zelda, but then realised that it belonged to another woman. A woman whose voice he had not heard in a long time.

"Malon?" he whispered, his heart quaking with awe.

'Go,' she repeated. 'Remember I love you all.'

Without another moment's hesitation, Link, pulling Zelda along in his arms, stepped through. 

Zayna paused, looking back. She had no words to say, but she felt her heart lift, finally being set free. Turning back, she jumped through the gateway home.

The portal swirled away into nothingness as the shaking grew. Malon felt her consciousness dissipate and she fell back into Death's embrace.

With a final lurch, the Chamber of the Joining caved in, burying Cyle, Chalance Vance and the Emperor forever.

NEXT: The final chapter! Waa!


	39. Epilogue

Chapter 38

Zelda, of the Harkinian Royal Family, watched her people from high up in her castle, her healthy hand laid flat on the window. The noonday sun bathed the land with a sharp, yellow glow and she watched the bustle of the distant market town, men, women and children trading, talking and laughing, generally excited, on this, the first day of summer. She breathed in deeply, sharing in their simple contentment. So long as they were happy, she would also be relatively happy. She would never be complete though, never. Just a glance down at her other arm reminded her of that, but also the dull throb in her heart.

"Your Highness," Mina's voice called from behind her. "They're waiting."

The Queen pulled herself away from the view, striding across the room to join her smiling, round-faced Advisor. Leaving the room, they made their way down the hallway, Zelda nodding at those that passed, as they whispered a hurried 'Your Majesty'. The sunlight was bright and should have been uplifting, but Zelda could only feel her heart stir slightly in response to it.

It had been a tumultuous six months since she had returned from the Sacred Realm. There had been much rebuilding to do, many wounds that needed to be healed. The Gorons, the Zora, and the Hylians all had to co-operate, reconstructing broken houses and comforting those that had lost loved ones or more. Zelda had to send stream after stream of Royal Messengers, all of whom would visit all the towns and villages of Hyrule, explaining what had truly happened and how their King had betrayed the people. She did not know how many of her citizens believed it, but there were no murmurs of discontent.

It did not help that all the nations that Cyle had had a treaty with broke free from their previous agreements, leaving Hyrule somewhat alone. Zelda had been glad for the assistance of Toriya and the Morolak Kingdom, whose army had stayed a while in Hyrule to hunt down the remaining members of Redstar Murden's traitorous troops. The Freelander Emirate had kept themselves aloof, wanting to stay neutral. She had sent a scroll to them, detailing her condolences over what had happened and how sorry she was at news of the death of the King, the Viceroy and the Prince. She received no response.

Other things bothered her too. Deep under the Castle and the Temple of Time they had discovered hidden dungeons, rusted chains empty, dark bloody stains clinging to the floor. They had found only one captive though, a thin, old man, hanging dead from a wall. Zelda had thought his face was familiar, but could not place why.

Immediately after returning to Hyrule she had sent out an expedition to the Island of the Gate. There, they had found Chitz the Imp, lonely and a little angry. The expedition had found no trace of the Gate itself, only a pile of rubble. Searching through the debris they had recovered a broken bauble, a glittering representation of Lon Lon Ranch carved expertly out of some sort of green jewel. Zelda had thought it was a thing of beauty and kept it beside her bed in her chambers.

She could not exactly remember how they had escaped from the Realm. Link had mumbled something about some sort of portal they had found, but when she pressed him for further for information he would only change the subject, a haunted look crossing his features.

She sighed, her eyes catching sight of the newly planted garden outside, a bright, multi-coloured strip of land that she had dedicated to Fran, Tessa, Tyron, Darunia, Nabooru and Chizan. In one corner, hidden away unless someone knew what they were looking for, was a single, solitary rare black rose. It was her only reminder of her first husband.

And now, she had no husband at all. As she had feared, the Hylian aristocracy, hiding themselves away in all the turmoil, had not recognised her marriage to a 'commoner' and had demanded she reconsider. She felt her anger flare just thinking about it. After all the things Link had done for them, this was how they showed their gratitude. With Cyle's propaganda creating whirlpools of resentment amongst the people, she had needed the aristocracy to cement her position and validate her position as Queen. And so, with a heart cracked in two, she had had no choice but to let Link go yet again. If she had not, then the aristocracy, being vindictive in nature, would have made her reign insecure. That may have led to civil war or worse.

She could no longer sense him in her mind. The connection was still there, but everytime she prodded it, it would shrivel away and hide behind a wall. Her heart ached with such a fury that tears came to her eyes, unbidden.

Zelda and Mina entered the conference room, seeing Toriya and Ruto already seated at the table there. Off to one side stood a courtier, a representative of the aristocracy.

The Queen smiled as her two friends rose to greet her. "Toriya, Ruto," she said, turning to each one. "You're both looking well."

"As are you, Your Highness," the Morolak Duchess replied. Like Zelda she also only had one hand. For some reason, the Queen felt more of a bond between them because of it.

"How are things in the Zora's Domain?" Zelda asked, turning to the other woman.

Ruto smiled with a sigh. "As well as things can be expected. There was a lot of damage done to the water from the burning liquid that was poured into it. Still, Mayro's been working all hours of the night and day to swim underneath and open all the old ducts that lead to the sea. Hopefully, the waters can mix and dilute."

Zelda nodded, slightly saddened. So much destruction had occurred.

"So," Toriya said, a mischievous tilt to her voice. "We've been summoned here for a specific reason I gather."

Rolling her eyes, Zelda let out a breath. "Yes," she said sourly, glancing at the courtier. "I'm supposed to choose a suitor soon. I need your advice."

Toriya tapped her fingers on the table. "We have some nice young Dukes over in the Kingdom," she said. "It would be easy to arrange something and would strengthen relations between ourselves and Hyrule."

"Nice Morolak men?" Ruto said with a glint in her eye. "No such thing. If Skulljack and Redstar are any example."

The Duchess chuckled, conceding defeat.

"What about a Zora?" Ruto asked, grinning. "It would be unique."

Zelda opened her mouth to speak, when the door to the chamber opened. They turned, seeing a Royal Messenger march across the room towards the courtier. The representative of the aristocracy bent down a little as the Messenger whispered something in his ear. The three women waited, curious.

Straightening up again, the courtier cleared his throat. "It appears," he said, "that someone has just arrived wishing to ask for the Queen's hand."

Zelda looked over at her two friends with a frown and they shrugged back at her, equally confused. "Who?"

"I am told that it is the Prince of the Freelanders."

Zelda spun out of her chair, her mind whirling, as the others followed her out. She increased her steps as she tried to think things through. She did not know who ruled the Freelanders now, and she was not aware of any other members of their royalty that were still alive and in a position to ascend to the Throne. But, of course, just because she was not aware of them did not mean they did not exist. Still. There was an ember of hope in her heart. She had turned away from Chizan, that day in the Sacred Realm. Was she even certain that he had died there? Or had the magic in that place somehow kept him alive? She smiled at that, wondering how the Prince would feel at being saved from death by magic.

She entered the Great Hall, where, at the far end, she saw a trio of figures. One was hidden from her view, but the other two were clearly Freelander men.

"Your Highness," one of them said, stepping forward with a bow. "It honours us to see the Queen of Heroic Deeds still healthy."

She nodded, not speaking. Curiosity was making her edgy.

The other man looked at her. "The Freelander Emirate desires a union with Hyrule to heal old wounds and establish a mutual exchange of knowledge and trade."

Zelda arched an eyebrow at this. Were they willing to forget the war so quickly and easily?

"To achieve this," the Freelander continued. "Our Prince and ruler, one of many Heroic Deeds, wishes to ask for your hand in marriage."

Zelda looked up as the two men parted, revealing the third. She stumbled back in shock as Link's tattooed grinned back on her, Chitz the Imp perched on his shoulder and waving.

"But…" she said, a smile coming to her face. "How?"

"Only one with laden with Heroic Deeds could possibly rule the Freelanders," Link said, stepping forward.

"Haha," Chitz said. "After all this time and he becomes a Freelander!" The Imp shook his head with mock exaggeration. "Where did I go wrong? Haha. I'm such a bad mentor."

The courtier coughed politely. "We require a formal proposal."

"Of course," said Link. He bent down on one knee, still smiling, and held out his hand. Zelda grinned down at him, their connection reopening and the pain in her heart melting away under a wave of pure joy.

"Zelda Harkinian, Queen of Hyrule," he said. "On behalf of the Freelander Emirate I would like to ask: will you marry me?"

_Again_. His voice was in her head and she had to bite down on her lip to keep from laughing.

"Prince Link of the Freelander Emirate," she said, taking his hand. "On behalf of the Kingdom of Hyrule, I gladly accept your proposal."

Chitz hopped off of Link's shoulder as he stood and took the Queen into his arms. His arms curled around her and her heart thudded. Finally, the day did seem bright, as did the next day and the next month and the rest of her life. Gently lifting her chin with his hand, he leaned down and they kissed, husband and wife once more, as all those around them smiled with genuine happiness.

*

Zayna leaned back in the chair, fanning herself with a scroll, as the air in the small hut swelled with heat. Her eyes looked around at the stains on the walls and floor, still not sure exactly what they were, even after all this time. She decided she did not want to know. Link had lived here on his own for five summers. He clearly had not taken good care of the place.

The front door opened, letting in sand caught on the breeze, and an old man entered, a sack of supplies on his back.

"Lorfor," she said. "You don't have to bring me all this. I can collect it myself."

"I know," he said, wiping his brow and catching the water pouch she threw at him. "I just need to feel useful."

She could understand that. At the moment, though, she felt more than content to be completely independent, not seeking anything or anyone and, more importantly, not being sought out for anything or by anyone. After all these summers thinking that she was the most important thing in the world and having Cyle and Vance snapping at her heels, it was gratifying to have absolutely nothing to do at all. She smiled; knowing that the laziness could not last long, but determined to enjoy it while it lasted.

"How are things?" she asked.

"All's well," Lorfor said, sitting down at a table and taking a sip of water. "Lon Lon is back to normal. I had to fight to get the Town Council to let me take control of Fran's assets." His took on a tone of sadness. "Not that there was much that he owned."

"Are you going to sell his house and business?"

"No," he said, scratching the back of his head. "Not entirely. I'll sell the business and use the money to construct some sort of Marcaster memorial where his house now stands."

She nodded, not replying. She was not sure how the rest of the townsfolk would react to that, but she did not have the heart to ask.

"What about you?" he asked. "What's your next move?"

Zayna sucked on her teeth as she pondered an answer. Her sword was resting by her side and she picked it up now, tracing the length of the blade with her eyes. "I think I should put what Link taught me to good use." He looked over at Lorfor with a smile. "Some good old fashioned adventuring. See where it leads me."

A sound from outside the door caught their attention. Their eyes flicked at each other. Cautiously they made their way across to the front, Zayna gripping her sword tightly. There was a scratching and, abruptly, a small parchment slid under the door. Curious, Zayna picked it up, no longer feeling apprehensive.

As she read the words, written with an elegant and exaggerated grace, she laughed. "About time," she said.

Lorfor gave her an inquisitive look and she handed the paper over to him. He brought it close to his face, squinting. "My, my," he said, a slow smile spreading across his face. "The wedding of Prince Link and Queen Zelda." He looked up. "_Prince_ Link?"

Zayna shrugged, her heart feeling light. She looked forward to seeing her friends once more. "Knowing him, he probably challenged some dignitary to a duel and wagered the other man's title on the outcome."

She opened the door, letting the scorching desert heat burn her face. In the distance she could just make out the tavern where she had first met the Hero of Time. She sighed. It seemed such a long time ago. Her time for rest was clearly over. It did not bother her too much. Feeling the stir of excitement, she grinned.

Sheathing her sword, Zayna looked over at the older man. "Come, Lorfor," she said. "I think it's time to go back to the Castle. And from there," she added with a smile, "move on to some adventure and excitement."

Zayna winked and Lorfor laughed, turning back to prepare their belongings so that they would be ready to leave.

*

Fran Marcaster looked up slowly from the cracked and yellow scroll in front of him. Finally, after months and months of painstaking reading, he had discovered where he was. Or, more precisely, _when_ he was.

The Eye to the Ages had sent him five hundred summers into the future.

_Five hundred summers!_

A shiver ran up his spine as the realisation sank in. Slowly, he stood up, the sound of his scraping chair echoing around the Great Library of the Castle. His eyes took in the piles of scrolls all around him, filling the room like large dusty mountains. Something puzzled him. In his studies he had learned that the world had been a far different place a thousand summers ago, with people living in tents and using rocks as weapons. Between that point and the time when he had originally lived, they had progressed immensely. And yet, between that time to the time he was in now, there did not seem to be very little advancement. There were minor changes, of course. The powder that lit lanterns replacing the oil that he had used in his time. A large enough quantity of it was explosive too, and was used in various weapons. The language had changed very little, except for minor variations in accent. Fran was grateful for that, people could still understand them even if they found his accent strange.

He did not understand why things had stayed relatively the same. He had read about various Cataclysms that had occurred in the world between his time and this, and he wondered if they had had a more damaging effect than scholars believed.

Fran shook the thoughts away. There was no point in pondering questions that no one else had answered in the previous five hundred summers. His eyes fell on a scroll, tucked away on a shelf by itself. He felt sick just looking at it. He had read it only once and it had made him weep for so long that he thought he would go blind.

'The Tale of the Key' the words along the edge read.

Tessa.

Tears came to his eyes just by thinking about it, and the familiar hole opened in his heart once more, threatening to swallow him with grief. He shook his head slowly, leaving the Library and entering the garden outside. Warm sunlight fell on his face, but his heart still felt cold.

That particular scroll had puzzled him too. Though it mentioned Cyle, Chizan, Chalance Vance and Zayna, there was nothing about Link and Zelda there. A 'heroic one' and his one-handed wife were the central players in the story, but they were unnamed and Fran was confused as to their identity, especially the woman with one hand.

Lost in thoughts, Fran had not realised that he had wandered too close to the large, drab area beyond the gardens where the King's troops trained. He stroked his beard, his muscles aching from age. Fran felt that he would welcome death when it came. There was nothing for him in this life, in this world where he was an outsider and everyone he knew had passed away long ago. If anything, death would release him from the anguish he suffered ever since finding out Tessa's true purpose and fate.

The sound of grunts and the rip of arrows made him look up. The troops, irregulars judging by their dark tunics, danced to their deadly tune, training in the hot sun. Fran felt unmoved, sick of seeing death and destruction. It was, he mused sadly, the one constant throughout history.

One of the young men whirled, parrying an attack. The momentum was too much for him though and he slipped back. Fran's eyes widened as he saw the man stumble towards him. He tried to move, but he was too old and slow. They collided with one another and fell in a tangled heap.

Fran felt a flash of annoyance and he hissed. "Lad," he barked. "Try and keep yourself focused, will you?"

The boy looked up at him and Fran flinched, shocked. He had to blink to make sure he was not seeing things, and he leaned closer, peering.

The young man looked a little uncomfortable, doubt creasing his still-unmarred features. "What is it?" he said. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Fran opened his mouth to speak, but his throat tightened, his mind spinning. Finally, he pushed the words out. "What's your name, laddie?"

The youngster eyed him cautiously. "Why do you ask?"

"Just curious." Fran's heart caught in his throat. Part of him dreaded the answer and what it would entail.

After a moment's thought, the boy nodded, probably deciding that Fran was a harmless old man. "Link," he said. "My name is Link."

Fran's shaking head sank slowly into his hands. "Oh, by all that is holy," he gasped. "Not another one!"

***

A/N: Annnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnd CUT!

How's that for my debut fanfic?

Three months, one overheated laptop and an endless supply of Diet Coke later, we've finally reached the end, thank God!

Thank you times a million for all your reviews. You don't know how much they helped. I could try and act all cool and say that they didn't affect me, but I'd be lying. ;) Sometimes I would be sick of the story and would wish it a slow death, but I'd get a really nice review and that would just spur me on to write more. No joke!

Anyway, final thoughts from everyone, please? :)

Thanks a million for reading!

Split


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